Remember When It Rained
by Titania Malfoy Snape
Summary: What she couldn’t figure out though, as she stood in the back garden of number Twelve Grimmauld Place, was how she had fallen in love with Hogwarts most hated Professor.
1. Default Chapter

Remember When It Rained  
  
A/N: This is a song-fic inspired by the song of the same title from the album "Closer" by Josh Groban. If you have never heard this talented 20 something sing, you are missing out on one of the most beautiful voices! I find this song to be terribly moving. To me it expresses hope.  
  
Let me add that I own nothing that you recognize. Oh, and June 4 can't come soon enough.  
  
Live long and prosper! Titania 5/10/04  
  
Chapter One  
  
Wash away the thoughts inside...  
  
That keep my mind away from you No more love and no more pride. The thoughts are all I have to do.  
  
Hermione Granger was not your ordinary witch. No, not by far. She was muggle born, true but she was also one of the smartest most talented witches to grace the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since the time when Severus Snape was a student there.  
  
She wasn't beautiful, but she was pleasing to the eyes with her cinnamon colored hair (which she had to really work at to keep under control) and her brown eyes. Her nose was not pert, nor was it big. Hermione always thought of it as just an ordinary nose. Her lips lent themselves to a certain sexiness, for they were full but just shy of pouty. She thought her lips were her best facial feature. She was of average height with shapely legs and a sweet figure. She was in decent shape, thanks to her mother's genes.  
  
By far her finest asset however was her mind. Even she could acknowledge this with out false modesty. She knew her mind was fine for she worked hard to hone it to the sharp instrument it was. Her study habits and love of knowledge had perhaps cost her some friends, but this was not a frequent regret. After all, she had Harry, Ron and Ginny.  
  
What she couldn't figure out though, as she stood in the back garden of number Twelve Grimmauld Place, was how she had fallen in love with Hogwarts most hated Professor. Not only that, but how she was going to survive her seventh and final year at school with out making a fool out of her self like she had last night.  
  
The night before...  
  
"Good evening Professor," she murmured as he helped her up off of the floor. She had, as usual run smack into him as she rushed down the stairs. She had been running late all day and was now in danger of being late for the start of the Order's weekly meeting.  
  
She, Harry and Ron had just been inducted into the order the week prior, and she wanted to live up to the responsibility that membership entailed. Hermione hated tardiness. So as a result of her rushing, she had managed to plow into Professor Snape. Again. For probably the twentieth time that year.  
  
"Miss Granger, do you greet everyone in this manner or is it a privege reserved exclusively for me?" he asked once she was set aright again.  
  
Hermione blushed and stuttered, "P-professor I am-"  
  
"So sorry, sir," he finished cutting her apology off "Yes, Miss Granger I am well aware that you are once again so sorry, Professor Snape, sir. Tell me Miss Granger. Do you walk at all, or is your life lived at a continual run?"  
  
She met his eyes and returned his scowl. "Well Professor, if you must know I have been rather busy today and am running behind on time."  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger. It would seem that you had this same problem last term as well. I believe that I have advised you before that you shouldn't pack your schedule so tightly?"  
  
She rewarded his gruff tone with a haughty expression and replied, "My schedule isn't your concern, sir, as I told you at the time you offered that sage advice." Allow me to reiterate the reply."  
  
He narrowed his eyes at her and lowered his head toward her. His voice caressed her ear as he whispered, "Perhaps a cow bell around your neck would be in order then, Miss Granger, as a warning to your approach and a salvation to my arse!"  
  
He turned on his heel, and strode to the kitchen door. Hermione stared, narrow eyed at his back as she followed him into the meeting.  
  
He hadn't been joking when he made the remark about his arse, he thought as he gingerly sat down on one of the wooden chairs that surrounded the kitchen table. Perhaps it was age, or the lingering effects of the Crutatious he had endured last night, but Miss Granger's recklessness was beginning to wreak havoc on his posterior. He would have to treat the bruise he knew was forming with the salve he had created after enduring Poppy's teasing upon his fourth visit to the infirmary for Hermione treatment, as he referred to it.  
  
"Really Severus," she had said. "One would think that a mere chit of a girl wouldn't be able to inflict such injury!"  
  
He never returned to her after a run in with the girl from that night on. Thus the salve, which was of course back at Hogwarts. He hissed an expletive, drawing the attention of Remus Lupin who was, to Snape's great misfortune seated next to him.  
  
"What was that, Severus?"  
  
"Nothing Rover. Mind your business."  
  
With one last scowl in her direction he turned his attention to Albus Dumbledore as he called the meeting to order.  
  
Severus Snape lay sprawled under the shapely thighs of Hermione Granger. She was looking down at him with a mixture of horror and fear. He was looking up at her with a mixture of fury and pain. They were both too busy to notice the amused and in some cases, horrified expressions of the small audience that had gathered in the hall.  
  
"Oh my God!" she gasped. "Oh Professor Snape, sir I-"  
  
"Shut up and get the hell off of me Granger!" he hissed at her as waves of pain swept through his already sore butt.  
  
She closed her mouth and made to climb off of him, but in her haste her feet became entangled in her robes and she found herself sprawled chest to chest with him.  
  
"Miss Granger! You are a nuisance, worse than Tonks!" he hissed again as he tried to catch the breath that she had knocked out of him. He bucked his hips slightly as he pushed her shoulders in an effort to urge her off of him then froze at her hissed reaction. This couldn't possibly be what he thought it was, he thought.  
  
"Oh sir-"  
  
"Get off of me now!"  
  
She managed to climb off of him and stand upright without further incident. Ignoring her offered hand, Severus gingerly made his way to his feet, and in doing so noted the gathered crowd. 'Wonderful,' he thought as he turned to confront the on going bane of his existence.  
  
"Miss Granger!" he growled as he towered over her in an attempt to intimidate. "Stay away from me. I don't want to see you except for your appearances in class, and I am ordering you to walk around me when you do see me. Do not sit next to me and for the love of God, please slow the Hell down! You are a continuing nuisance to me and if you run into me one more time you will regret it! Do I make myself clear, Miss Granger?"  
  
She stood there, breathless and frightened listening to his whispered tirade. Wishing that the foundations of the old house would collapse and swallow her. Blinking back tears, she nodded her head and then stepped past him. He heard he stifled sobs as she ran up the stairs.  
  
"Well done, Severus," Remus Lupin muttered as he edged his way past the cranky wizard.  
  
Harry and Ron glared at him as the past him and followed their friend up the stairs and Severus thought that he heard the words Git and Bastard muttered and he wished that he could take house during summer break. Alas, Albus had forbidden it last summer.  
  
"Severus. Did you have to be so harsh with Hermione?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling over his half moon glasses. "Surely she ran into you on accident?"  
  
"Sir, she has made this running into me a habit over the course of the last year, as I am sure Poppy has informed you. She is a nuisance and is quite literally a pain in my arse! I may have to put up with her in class, but I certainly don't have to put up with her in any other arena!"  
  
With that said he turned, strode out of the front door and apperated away with an angry pop.  
  
With a sigh, Hermione turned and walked back inside. She really couldn't dwell on the prior evening any longer. Her eyes still felt puffy from crying and she hadn't had enough sleep. It was her turn to cook breakfast and she didn't want to ruin the meal for the rest of the occupants of the house. She had had a hard enough time persuading Molly Weasley that she actually deserved a lie in to try and help get rid of the persistent cough that even Snape's potions couldn't cure.  
  
Thanking God, that he never took a meal in the house, she proceeded to heat up the Aga and whip the eggs in preparation for the giant omelet she was going to make. Time passed agreeably fast, the comfortable smell of breakfast drifted throughout the house and everyone slowly drifted in to begin their day.  
  
She sat down at her place, mug of coffee in hand and nibbled on her eggs. Everyone kept to themselves during the first meal of the day from the tacit agreement that none were really morning people.  
  
"So Mione, how did you sleep?" Remus asked breaking the silence.  
  
She sipped her coffee again, wincing as she burned her tongue. "Fine, thank you Remus," she answered after a moment. "After all, being insulted by Professor Snape is something we are all used to by now."  
  
He let out a small laugh that resembled a short bark and replied, "That's Severus for you, but I thought that you two were getting along better after your work on that potion last term?"  
  
"I don't think that Snape could get along with anyone if his life depended on it," Harry muttered. "I mean really he's worse than Dudley sometimes!"  
  
Hermione smiled at her friend and took another bite of her omelet.  
  
"Don't let him hear you say that Harry!" scolded Ginny. "That's an insult to poor Dudley!"  
  
This elicited a round of giggles, for everyone knew about Dudley Dursley and the treatment Harry received in his aunt and uncle's home.  
  
"Besides Harry," Ron added "We have him again this year! Neville too, poor chap. Maybe you should just invent a Snape Repellant Charm, Mione. I think he will kill you if this term is a repeat of the last!"  
  
Hermione sighed. "I don't know why I always seem to be running him down. You'd think that my mum hadn't made me take all of those years of ballet as ungraceful as I seem to be around him! I mean really, he just creeps up on you!"  
  
There was no response to her comment, for they were all busy reflecting on how many times they had been caught off guard by the silent approach of their professor.  
  
After a moment, Remus said, "He was even creepy silent as a student, to if I recall. He almost got the best on James on a couple of occasions. Still Hermione, last night was really amusing. The look on his face was priceless!"  
  
"Please let's don't bring last night up again!" Hermione exclaimed, "I don't want to think about it. It will ruin our day at Diagon Alley."  
  
Seeing her blush and not wanting to arouse her temper, her companions wisely let the matter drop. 


	2. Chapter Two

Remember When It Rained  
Chapter Two  
That Keep My Mind Away From You  
  
Gods he hated cheerful house elves, and as the one who made an appearance with his breakfast was unbearably cheerful, Severus figured that it must be new to the ever bourgeoning staff of the creatures.  
  
The said burgeoning house elf problem was an indirect result of the efforts of the bane of his existence and literal pain in the arse, Hermione Granger.  
  
"Fucking SPEW!" he muttered then tore into his toast with all of the venom he wished he could release on Miss Granger. Chewing absently he shifted in his chair, trying to get a bit more comfortable, and winced at the soreness of his posterior.  
  
'Only two months more of the summer term,' he thought miserably and tried to distract himself with thoughts about what he would do today, his only free day of the week. 'No Order meeting, no Dark Revel, no students and best of all no twinkling from-'  
  
"Good morning Severus," came the cheerful voice of Albus Dumbledore's head from the fireplace.  
  
"Good morning Albus. To what do I owe this oh so longed for interruption of my Sunday morning?" he answered without looking at the head in his fireplace.  
  
"May I come over?"  
  
"I don't suppose that you would listen if I told you no?" he sighed. "Of course not," he finished as Albus stepped into the room chuckling.  
  
"Now Severus," he said. "This is no way to start your day."  
  
"You don't say," he replied eyeing the Headmaster with a cocked brow.  
  
"What I meant was you shouldn't be so grouchy, Severus. Or perhaps you are missing the tormenting of the student population?" Dumbledore answered picking up a slice of toast, "Were you going to eat this?"  
  
"Why are you here, Albus?" Severus asked with a sigh as Albus bit into the bread. "I actually have plans for my day that I would like to be getting on with."  
  
Albus gave him a little smile as he conjured up a tea cup and made a show of pouring out a serving and then seasoning it. The room was silent except for the clink of the spoon against the china and the crackle of the low fire. Severus signed again and winced as he shifted positions in his chair.  
  
"I see, Miss Granger has managed to injure you yet again," Albus observed. "Poor Severus. I quite empathize, seeing as I have been run into on one or two occasions by the lady."  
  
"Oh? You mean she's run you down at least twice a week for the last nine months?" he asked with some asperity. "Perhaps you may be in need of some of my special salve?"  
  
Albus chuckled and Severus made a fist against his knee. "Look old man, just tell me why you are here and then let me be."  
  
"Patience Severus. I must first ask you a question and I want you to answer it as a teacher, which means I want an unbiased opinion from you."  
  
The piece of toast that Severus had just finished began to feel like a boulder on his stomach as he processed the words that he had just heard. When Albus tells you he wants an unbiased opinion, he thought, it couldn't possibly be good news.  
  
"Go on then," was the reply.  
  
"I want to know your opinion of Hermione Granger."  
  
"Gods! Can it possibly get any hotter?" Ron Weasley whined as he plopped into a chair and dug into his sundae.  
  
"Oh hush Ron, it's only June and you are already complaining!" Ginny scolded before she dipped her spoon into her treat.  
  
"Wouldn't be bitching about the heat if you were playing Quidditch," Hermione said with derision. "You're only complaining because Ginny and I haven't let you and Harry loose in the Quiddich shop yet. So eat your ice cream and be quiet."  
  
"Hang on, I haven't complained!" Harry chimed in as he took a seat beside Ginny.  
  
"Only because you haven't had to, Ron's been doing enough for the both of you!"  
  
They all sat in companionable silence, enjoying the warm afternoon and the bustle of Diagon Alley. It really had been a full morning for them, with nothing to do but contemplate the summer ahead of them. Even Hermione allowed herself to think of other things besides school, and enjoyed being dragged around by Ginny to the various shops. She would be returning to a new school year with a variety of nice robes, and a cape or two.  
  
"So Mione, what's up with that black cape? Trying for the position of Mini Snape?" Harry asked with a teasing smile.  
  
Hermione dropped her spoon into her bowl and glared at her friend, "Ha ha, Harry very funny. Oh and thank you ever so much for bringing that name up and ruining my afternoon."  
  
Harry laughed and grabbed her hand, "Come on Mione! I was only teasing. Besides he's the only teacher you haven't managed to get on the good side of."  
  
"Yea," Ron chimed in. "And your running into him every other day hasn't helped you in that cause either."  
  
"What in the name of Merlin are you talking about, Ron. What cause?"  
  
"Oh come on Mione, all of the teachers at Hogwarts love you," Ginny said. "Well except for Trelawney and Snape. Not that Snape ever loved any of his students, the Slytherins excepted of course."  
  
"So what, everyone thinks that I am some sort of arse kisser?" Hermione replied angrily.  
  
"No, but you have been talked about you know what with all of that running into Snape last term. I had to nearly hex Malfoy just recently when I overheard some of the things that he was saying about you." Harry answered.  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Just what did that little cockroach have to say?"  
  
Harry and Ron glanced at each other and blushed.  
  
"Well, what did he say?" Hermione asked in a tone that had always managed to make Ron cringe. "Well?"  
  
"Well, erm he said that you and Snape were, erm you know, that you two were- "  
  
"That son of a bitch!" Hermione yelled eliciting a few stares from passers by. "I'll kill him!"  
  
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Hermione! Calm down! No one actually believed those rumors." Ginny whispered as she placed a restraining hand on her friend's arm. "Although a lot of us thought it was awfully funny you running into him all of the time. Seamus had a pool going as to whether or not you would actually cause him to break a bone."  
  
"That's not funny Ron!' Hermione exclaimed when he laughed. He was joined by Harry and Ginny and Hermione's face got redder.  
  
She glared at her friends until they were cowed into silence.  
  
"Come on Mione, lighten up a bit. It was just all in good fun." Ron gasped trying to catch his breath.  
  
Hermione threw her napkin on the table before her and stood up. "Well it's nice to know that I have been the source of entertainment for the entire school!" she exclaimed, then stormed away leaving her friends aghast.  
  
"Albus Bloody Dumbledore, meddling, interfering, conniving old fool! Actually thinks that I would even want to come within ten centimeters of her! Nervy old bast-" Severus Snape's tirade was cut short by the impact of Hermione Granger shooting out from the fireplace and into the library of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.  
  
'Fuck! Fuck! Fuckity Fuck!' Hermione thought, horrorstruck at what she had just done. Then taking a deep breath she quickly assessed the situation and knew that she was a dead little witch.  
  
They lay, sprawled on the hearth rug, limbs entangled and covered with ash. His eyes were closed but she could tell that he was still conscious because his jaw was rigid and she could hear him grinding his teeth. It was the flaring nostrils tat told her that she was going to die. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off before she could utter a syllable.  
  
"DO NOT say a word, Miss Granger. If you utter a sound I will hex you."  
  
'Oh is he pissed!' she thought 'I am so dead'  
  
She sighed and then gently pushed against a shoulder so that she could at least get upright. Perhaps she could make a run for it, floo to Hogwarts through another fire place, or perhaps Molly could protect her! She managed to get to her feet as Severus opened his eyes and glared at her.  
  
Before she could stop herself she offered her hand to him in assistance. He waved it away with a snort and slowly got to his feet.  
  
'Run you stupid twit!' she shouted to herself, but instead she stood there, next to him as he brushed the ash from his robes, all the while grinding his teeth. With a final flick, he sent the last of the ashes off of his person and then turned to the annoyance at his side.  
  
"Well Miss Granger? What is the excuse this time?" he growled. "Are you running from a rampaging Hippogriff? Being chased by Malfoy? Or did you merely sense my presence here and decide that you had to make it two days in a row that you plowed me down?"  
  
Hermione Granger hated to be intimidated, and Seveus Snape was now thisclose to her and getting closer. She could feel his hot breath on her forehead. So she did what any premenstrual girl would do in her situation. She snapped.  
  
"Well that does it!' she growled back at him. "How dare you assume that I have nothing better to do than to stalk you and make a point of running you down every chance I get/ I mean my reputation as a know it all book worm wasn't complete! Oh no! I just couldn't bear to spend my sixth year at Hogwarts without being this years Snape Fuck!"  
  
The room fell silent when she finished her tirade and for once in a good many years, Severus Snape was dumb struck. Dumb struck and angry. Very angry. So angry that even Hermione could tell that she had just signed her death warrant with her rant. She felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.  
  
"Oh! I am so dead!" she squeaked and then turned and raced from the room. 


	3. Chapter Three

Remember When It Rained  
Chapter Three  
I am Serious, and Don't Call Me Shirley  
  
Hermione plopped down on her bed and huffed. For the first time in her life she felt at a total loss and all because of the events of that evening. She closed her eyes, trying to resist the headache that was threatening, but opened them again when she felt the familiar weight of her cat on her belly.  
  
"Oh Crooks," she sighed as she stroked his soft fur. "I am at a loss. I have no clue what has happened."  
  
She gently slid the cat off of her and hopped out of the bed. Pacing the length of the room and ringing her hands she took deep calming breaths then turned to her pet.  
  
"Crooks, Professor Snape asked me to apprentice with him this term, what do you think of that?"  
  
With a small yowl, Crookshanks rolled himself into a ball and proceeded to lick his butt.  
  
"Thanks ever so much!" she exclaimed in disgust.  
  
Plopping onto the bed once more, she closed her eyes and reflected on what had occurred after her hasty exit from the library.  
  
Certain that she was going to die, she fled in the direction of the kitchen, hoping to find protection in Molly Weasley, but instead finding the Headmaster drinking tea. Upon her hasty entry into the room, Albus smiled and asked, "Miss Granger, where are you off to in such a hurry?"  
  
"Oh Professor Dumbledore, sir. I've gone and done it again!" she gasped in a terrified voice. "He's going to kill me!"  
  
"Done what again, who is going to kill you?" he asked softly.  
  
Before she could answer, the booming voice of one Severus Snape yelling her name rolled though the door that had just burst open. With a sharp cry, Hermione leapt behind the Headmaster for protection from the obviously irate Potions master.  
  
"Ah, I see," Albus said with a chuckle. "You two have had a run in again it seems."  
  
"Oh, it's much worse than that Albus," Snape hissed. "Miss Granger has just informed me that we were this last terms, what was it she said? Oh yes, she just informed me that she was my fu-"  
  
"Surely you don't put such stock in rumors, Severus?" Albus interrupted. "They occur every year after all."  
  
This was news to Severus. He knew he was rumored to be a vampire, called a bastard or a greasy git. But someone's fuck toy? Worse yet, Hermione Granger's fuck toy?  
  
"Sir? Am I to understand that you have heard this –this drivel?" he sputtered.  
  
"Yes, just as I have heard similar drivel every year since I was a student at Hogwarts," he answered with a chuckle. "When Lockhart was teaching, he and Hooch were a rumored item. Ignore it. Both of you."  
  
Hermione stepped out from behind Dumbledore's robes and cautiously made her way to the table. Albus took a seat next to her and motioned for the tea tray, which glided to the table.  
  
"Sit and have tea with us Severus," he invited as he handed Hermione a cup of steaming brew. "We can discuss Miss Granger's apprenticeship with you."  
  
The men winced at the sound of a tea cup shattering against the wood of the table.  
  
"What!" she exclaimed. "An apprenticeship?"  
  
Severus rolled his eyes at her reaction as Albus laughed and replied, "Yes Miss Granger. An apprenticeship. Reparo."  
  
Hermione picked up the tea pot with trembling hands and refilled her now repaired cup.  
  
"Oh thank you Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape! I can't tell you both how much this means to me!"  
  
"Well you are a fine student, Miss Granger. The finest that Hogwarts has seen sine Professor Snape's time. We both think that you have the potential to be an accomplished Potions mistress." Albus said, eyes twinkling. "Now, I shall leave the two of you to work out a suitable study schedule. I think that perhaps you could start her studies next week, Severus?"  
  
Silence reigned in the room after Albus' departure, and the two regarded each other from across the table.  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow and regarded her through hooded eyes. She was a brilliant student, although he had reluctantly admitted the fact to Albus during their conversation that morning.  
  
He had been thrown off by Albus' wanting to know his opinion of Miss Granger. Then again, Albus would on occasion throw him off with out of the blue questions. Now sitting here, across from the student in question he thought about his assessment of her.  
  
Yes, she was brilliant. A rival to even him potentially for there was still so much she would have to learn to master the craft that was Potions. She was an annoyance as well, with her constant eagerness to show off her knowledge, yet this had been curbed in recent years. He couldn't recall any signs of the over eagerness that she had demonstrated during her first three years as his student. No, she was more disciplined now, thus allowing her fellow classmates the opportunity to answer his questions and to ask their own. Not that his class participated any more then necessary out of pure intimidation. Which was, he admitted, his fault. Then again it was a teaching method that had served him well over the years and prevented serious accidents from occurring.  
  
Her work was always done properly and carefully and her essays were a joy to read. Not that he would ever tell her this of course. Perhaps this was a by product of his loathing of Potter, for he didn't hesitate to praise the mediocre work of the students of his house. This was, however a necessary by product of his work for The Order. Instead, she had to be satisfied with her grades, and if his lack of commentary on her work bothered her she had never let on.  
  
By all accounts her other teachers were just as pleased with Miss Granger, Minerva being the most complimentary of the bunch. The praise wasn't overdone nor exaggerated, even from her. Over exaggeration wasn't needed in Miss Granger's case.  
  
He sighed inwardly, but there was the problem of her continually running him down. It had become a joke amongst the teachers and now a source of rumor amongst the students. His fuck toy. That was horrifying and yet interesting. He had never, to his knowledge been party of a rumor of this sort.  
  
Yet he could see how these things came to be. She was, he reluctantly admitted rather attractive in an unusual sort of way. She wasn't classically pretty, but there was something about her that attracted attention. He was a man as well as a wizard and he hadn't failed to notice the curves she had acquired of late. Granted he wouldn't have noticed had she not continuously run him down. It was hard to ignore the young woman's attributes when she lay sprawled on top of you. She smelled good too and her skin was so soft!  
  
Her brains just added to the picture she presented, her peers merely hadn't matured enough to make that fact out yet. Given a few years, Miss Granger's attributes would make her a most sought after witch in a society where these things mattered. No one wanted to be married to an ill educated witch, no matter how pretty she was.  
  
"Professor?" she asked interrupting his thoughts.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"When would you like me to start? Do I need to buy anything special? If so could you escort me to Diagon Alley? How-"  
  
"One question at a time, Miss Granger," he said raising a hand.  
  
"Sorry sir."  
  
He answered with a slight nod. "Perhaps we need to first address your incredible clumsiness. It won't do to be clumsy as a Potions mistress."  
  
Hermione had the grace to blush, and most becomingly so he noted. "Well sir, you are right. I have been rather clumsy-I don't know why I seem to always be running into you. But you aren't the only one in spite of what you might think!"  
  
"Perhaps not the only one, Miss Granger, but I seem to be your favorite target."  
  
"What would you suggest?" she asked after a moment.  
  
He drummed his fingers on the table and said in a contemplative voice, "Perhaps if you slowed down?"  
  
"Slowed down sir?"  
  
"Yes silly girl! Slowed down. I have seen your schedule from last term and the proposed schedule you presented to the Headmaster. It is entirely too full, Miss Granger."  
  
"But sir, I like to study. I want to learn everything I can. I want to show those pure-blooded bigots that a 'Mudblood' can be just as good of a –"  
  
"I am a Pure Blood, Miss Granger, so watch what you say! I must point out that you will not have the time to take all of the classes you enrolled in and be an apprentice at the same time. You will need to drop most of your selections and keep only the required classes. The rest of your time, aside from scheduled free periods, will be spent with me."  
  
"I understand. I will write to the Headmaster about dropping some classes."  
  
"I believe that he has already taken care of the matter, Miss Granger," he replied. "Does Malfoy still call you Mudblood?"  
  
Hermione met his gaze, "Yes. As does most of your house, sir."  
  
His gaze remained inscrutable. "We will begin next Monday at 10 am sharp. You will meet me in my office at school. As for your supplies, we shall go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase them."  
  
Sensing his dismissal, Hermione rose from her seat and bade him good bye.  
  
"Oh Crooks! I start on Monday and tomorrow I have to spend time with him. In public, which of course means that others will see us and there are rumors!" she sighed as she came out of her reverie. "Well no matter. I am an apprentice Crooks! I did it! As to the rumors, I shall just ignore them. So there! What do you think?"  
  
Crookshanks responded with a "meep" and returned to licking his butt. 


	4. Chapter Four

Remember When It Rained  
Chapter Four  
Diagon Alley  
  
The day, early as it was, promised to be another hot one. Hermione wondered how Professor Snape didn't suffer from heat exhaustion in those thick robes he wore. She was uncomfortable in her denim skirt and t-shirt as it was, yet he appeared unfazed by the heat.  
  
The day had started off well, in Hermione's opinion. She actually had avoided running into him as she bounded down the stairs, running late as usual. Blast it if she hadn't overslept on an important morning.  
  
The start of her apprenticeship! Well the shopping for the supplies of it at any rate.  
  
She apologized for the delay before he could even comment on it and invited him to join the rest of the house for breakfast before they set off. Unable to resist the temptation of toying with Potter and Weasley he accepted and followed her into the kitchen.  
  
The expressions on the faces of the dynamic duo, ugh, had been worth the time he had to wile away whilst waiting for Hermione to finish the huge breakfast that Molly Weasley seemed to think she needed. When the meal was finally finished, Hermione startled her friends into further shock by announcing that she was off to do some "shopping at Diagon Alley with Professor Snape for my up coming apprenticeship." This announcement of course elicited an enthusiastic response from Molly and they wasted a further five minutes politely listening to her trilling on about how much of an accomplishment this was for "dear Hermione" and how "excellent a Potions mistress" she would make.  
  
Eventually Molly sensed the approaching end of Severus' patience and with a smile she sent them on their way telling them to be careful. As if he would be anything but. Molly was, however a kind and caring woman and even Severus kept a respectful posture and tone with her. She was one of the few people he actually respected.  
  
"Sir," Hermione asked interrupting the silence that the walked in. "I was wondering-"  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"What if we get spotted by, well you know, other Death Eaters?" she finished in a whisper.  
  
"I have thought of it Miss Granger. Do not concern yourself."  
  
They walked on in silence for a time, passing Olivander's shop and coming to a halt in front of Flourish and Blotts.  
  
"Sir?" she asked. "I wanted to apologize for my tirade yesterday. I was upset after hearing about the, well the rumor, and you were there in front of the fireplace when I flooed in and all. It was an accident! Besides you were standing in front of the fireplace! Oh and why didn't you notice the green flames and simply move out of the way?"  
  
She stopped upon noticing the haughty expression that overcame his features. She knew that once again she had gone too far, but honestly she was so nervous around him that she couldn't help but ramble.  
  
"I'm rambling, aren't I sir. I am so-"  
  
"Shut up Granger, for the love of Merlin!" he hissed. "You are getting as bad as Molly!"  
  
"Well!" she exclaimed, offended.  
  
"Don't!" he hissed again holding up his hand to stop her. "Just don't start again Miss Granger. I couldn't take it."  
  
They stood there glaring at each other. Hermione was so thankful that it was summer and he couldn't take house points. Severus was grateful that she had shut up and was shocked at her bravery in staring him down. Apparently she wasn't quite the little Potter sycophant. Her stare was as bad as Minerva's, apparently it was a Gryffindor trait. Damn it! She was good.  
  
He loathed being the one to break the stare, it would be a victory for her, but they were causing a scene. People were staring, so he closed his eyes and affected a put upon attitude.  
  
"Miss Granger, it must be close to lunch. Are you hungry?"  
  
He was rewarded with a smug grin. He would permit her to enjoy the victory for now, knowing that he had a full four years to avenge this moment. He was horrified by his reaction to her reply.  
  
"Lord no! I am still full from breakfast! I swear, I am glad of this apprenticeship for so many reasons, one of them being if I were to spend the whole of the summer with Molly I'd inevitably end up a large as a house. She's sweet and I love her, but I think she thinks that I will waste away to nothing!"  
  
It took all of his self control to keep from laughing aloud or even cracking a smile. Miss Granger would likely faint and he would blow his cover as the "Most Hated Teacher at Hogwarts".  
  
"Very well then, Miss Granger. Perhaps we should depart for home?"  
  
"That would be nice. I have some studying to do judging by the books we've bought today. Besides it's ever so hot! How do you stand this heat in those robes? Oops!" she covered her mouth with her hand, horrified at what she had just said. "Sorry sir. Perhaps we should go now."  
  
His head was aching. He hadn't felt like this since his last hangover, which was only a few days ago. The horrid part of it all was the fact that he hadn't even drunk a drop of fire whiskey. No, if the incessant rambling of Hermione Granger caused these kinds of headaches, he would make her apprenticeship as miserable as possible.  
  
Rummaging around in his cabinet for the headache potion he had stashed there, he reflected on the day. Other than her incessant rambling and foot eating it had been pleasant. Hermione Granger was a most agreeable companion when not talking inanities, but he supposed that inanities went along with the age. He wouldn't know, he had never experienced inanity.  
  
Her question about what he would do if spotted by his fellow Death Eaters had thrown him, but his answer though a bit vague seemed to have satisfied her. He really had no idea what he would say, but perhaps he could use the situation to his advantage. He was too low in the ranks to be of much use to The Order, a fact that rankled, but perhaps the caveat of having Potters best friend as an apprentice would raise his standing in the eyes of Voldemort. Merlin knew he needed any advantage he could get.  
  
The final confrontation was coming this school year, of this he was sure. He knew it instinctually. It was one of the reason Miss Granger was spending her summer at Grimmauld and Hogwarts. She would be safe. Her parents were under the constant surveillance of Order members and their house and offices were warded against danger. They had all done the best that they could to protect not only the Grangers but the Dursley's as well. Albus had said, over the protests of Minerva that even thought they had treated Harry shabbily, they were his only remaining family. Perhaps one day he would want to reconcile with them, or if not he would at least have the knowledge that his relation to them wasn't the cause of harm to them. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he had secretly agreed with Albus. Potters family was as abusive to him as his had been and in that matter only Severus was somewhat empathetic. Only somewhat, for it wasn't a topic he dwelled upon, the wounds from his school years ran too deep.  
  
Uncorking and gulping down the remedy, he placed the empty vial in the cabinet and made his way to his private chambers. Tonight he would read and allow himself to read something that had nothing to do with potions. Perhaps Agatha Christie or Conan Doyle would be enjoyable.  
  
'So Mione, how was your day with the git?" Ron Weasley asked as he sat next to her at the dinner table in the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.  
  
Hermione answered him with a glare and then turned back to her book. "It was pleasant, if you really want to know. Professor Snape is not a git, Ronald. You could at least show him some respect."  
  
"What!" he snorted. "I show him as much respect as he shows us Hermione. Look, just because you are his apprentice now, and I really don't know how you can stand the prospect of having to work with the bastard, doesn't mean that I have to change the way I feel about him! Nor should it change yours. Keep it up and people will think that the rumors are true!"  
  
Hermione slammed her book shut and stood up. "Grow up Ronald Weasley you great prat!" she yelled and stormed from the room.  
  
Immature little prat! She thought as she stomped up the stairs.  
  
Stomping sown the hall and into her room, she slammed the door shut with so much force that Crookshanks was startled from his cleaning. With a yowl of protest he jumped from the bed and scurried underneath it.  
  
"So sorry to pull you away from you butt cleaning, Crooks!" she growled as she plopped herself onto the bed, sending up a small cloud of ginger colored hair. "Damn it! No more cleaning yourself on my bloody bed!"  
  
Prat boys and inconsiderate cats! Monday couldn't come soon enough! 


	5. Chapter Five

Remember When It Rained  
Chapter Five  
No More and No More Pride  
  
Monday morning dawned bright and clear through Hermione's window, the gentle light of the rising Sun waking her. At some point in the night, Crookshanks had curled against her and was sleeping soundly. Hermione stroked his fur languidly as she allowed herself to awaken more fully.  
  
After a time she sighed as Crookshanks stood and stretched, nuzzled her hand and then jumped from the bed.  
  
"I should get up too," she muttered. Tossing the covers aside she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched her arms in the air and inhaled deeply. Standing she knuckled her scalp and then gently rubbed her face.  
  
"Wake up Ginny," she muttered shaking her friend's shoulder. "I leave for Hogwarts in an hour or so and it's your morning to make breakfast."  
  
"Muuff," was the muffled reply as her friend rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head.  
  
"Yea yea yea. I'm going to shower see you down stairs."  
  
A little while later Hermione made her way into the kitchen and took her seat at the table. This was her favorite room at Grimmauld Place, it always smelled like home and thanks to the efforts of Molly it was a cheerful room.  
  
"Morning Mione," Harry muttered into his cup of coffee. "Today's the big day."  
  
"Yea," said Fred. "We were going to have a wake for you, but mum said no."  
  
"Ha ha," she replied as she served herself a plateful of eggs and sausage. "He really isn't all that bad you know."  
  
"Please Hermione! He's a git!" Ron exclaimed as he walked into the room. "I don't know how you managed an entire day in Diagon Alley with him!"  
  
Hermione rather viciously speared a piece of sausage with her fork and threw a glare at her friend.  
  
"Grow up Ronald Weasley! Maybe if you spent a day with him you'd think differently. Besides, you and Harry both are going to have to spend a lot of time with him as members of the Order so you may as well get over it already!"  
  
"I can't believe that you are actually serious about this Hermione," Harry said quietly. "I mean he's always hated us, since our first day on his class. He's did his best to have Sirius handed over to the Dementors, he fucked up any chance that Professor Lupin had at staying at Hogwarts, and he favors his damn Slytherin sycophants constantly."  
  
"Your point Harry?" she said her eyebrow rose in derision.  
  
"See you are even mimicking that eyebrow thing he does, Mione. What are we supposed to think? You spend all of last year running into him, you actually want to apprentice with him and you take up for him at almost every turn. Maybe the rumors aren't rumors. Maybe they are true."  
  
A frosty silence fell on the room, chasing the cheerfulness out. Hermione stared at her friend, trying to comprehend what he had just said. Anger washed though her in a fast moving wave, flushing her cheeks and lighting fire in her eyes. As if of its own volition her hand snapped across his face, the slap of flesh on flesh shattering the silence.  
  
"How dare you!" she shouted as she stood, her chair tipping backward to the floor. Fred grabbed Harry as he lunged toward her with a growl.  
  
"You bastard! Severus Snape has done everything in his power to protect you from Voldemort-starting in your first damn year and continuing into this last one and you don't appreciate him! You sit there and criticize me for wanting to pursue a career with one of the finest minds in the world and accuse me of –of fucking him! Why because I wouldn't go with you?"  
  
"Mione!" Ron shouted.  
  
She swung to face him, "Don't Mione me Ronald Weasley! You're just as bad as Harry and I am sick of the lot of you! I am sick of you incessant talk of Quidditch, carrying the both of you through your course because you're too lazy to study and I am sick of your babyish attitude toward a man who has done more to save us all from Voldemort than the two of you put together!"  
  
She turned and strode toward the door. "And so I am leaving now and I don't expect to hear from any of you for the remainder of the summer unless it's to apologize to me and to Professor Snape!"  
  
Ignoring the glares and disbelieving looks from her friends and turned and pushed the door with all of the remaining anger in her. It obliged her with an outward swing into a solid figure behind it.  
  
'No, oh Gods please don't let it be' she thought as she slowly opened the door and peeked behind it 'him.'  
  
"Oh Merlin! Professor I am so sorry!" she whispered through trembling lips as she looked at the sprawled figure of her new Master, blood running from his nose.  
  
Eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves, or in Severus Snapes case, they end up sprawled on the floor with a broken nose.  
  
He should have known better, but the sound of a slap echoing in the hall led him to investigate, which led him to eavesdrop on Hermione Grangers rather loud defense of himself.  
  
Just when he thought he was past the age where things surprised him, Miss Granger proved him wrong.  
  
Still it wouldn't do to let her get away with yet another in a series of run- ins with him, even though to be fair he was a bit early in his arrival.  
  
"Miss Granger," he hissed as pain sliced though his head with each beat of his heart. Ignoring her offered hand he sat up and then slowly rose to his feet as he pinched his nose to quell the bleeding. "Don't say another word, just get your trunk and be ready to leave as soon as I stop this bleeding."  
  
"Sir, I-"  
  
"No! I don't want you to help me Miss Granger. You've done quite enough for one day."  
  
"Fine then, I shant offer sir!" she said. "And you might change your tone you know. You were the one listening in on the sly and from behind a door too!"  
  
She turned on her heel and marched up the stairs setting the portrait of Mrs. Black off on a fresh rant about filthy mud bloods. "Shut up already you old hag!" she yelled at it from the top of the stairs and stomped to her room, slamming the door shut.  
  
A/N I know it's short. My muse is being stingy but I am currently working on the rest of the fic, which will have longer chapters and eventually lemons. Lots and lots of lemons. Live long and prosper. 


	6. Chapter Six

Remember When It Rained  
Chapter Six  
Thoughts Are All I Have To Do  
  
He watched her as she sat, hunched over a steaming cauldron, stirring the latest version of the Leaching potion they had been developing since the beginning of the summer. All of their efforts had been with out success thus far and they were both beginning to feel frustrated.  
  
She wore, he observed, her typical look of intense concentration. Her eyebrows scrunched together, her lips turned down into a moue that for some reason he found attractive. He had begun to find many attractive things about her, much to his chagrin.  
  
He knew that she was the brightest witch at Hogwarts, outstripping even Draco Malfoy, who was no slouch in the intelligence department for all of the effort he went to hide it. She would have been a pleasure to teach, no she was indeed a real pleasure to teach, but his role as a spy prevented him from even the vaguest of compliments. At least in front of Malfoy and gang.  
  
Her clumsiness did not carry over into the lab, for which he was silently grateful. Rather she took on a certain elegance as she carried jars and vials too and fro, or as she sliced or chopped the ingredience for the next round of trials. He found that she was a silent helpmate, where he had expected chattiness, and her questions were always insightful and well asked.  
  
They had settled into a routine rather quickly and the summer progressed apace, the days shortening into the coolness that always heralded the beginning of a new term.  
  
Her exasperated sigh startled him out of his reverie and he looked at her full on, his eyes questioning.  
  
"Sorry, sir," she muttered. "I'm just so frustrated! I really don't think that this is going to work either! Look at the colour and the consistency. It's all wrong!"  
  
He rose from his seat and made it to the table in two strides. It was wrong, indeed.  
  
"Miss Granger," he said. "Dump that out and clean up the table. You have done enough for the day."  
  
She looked at him, for now she dared to meet his eyes. "But sir," she said. "Perhaps we could try some essence of –"  
  
"Enough!" he interrupted. He bent his head to the side and observed her closely. She was paler than usual, and her eyes were dull from lack of sleep. Glancing at the clock on the opposite wall he was astonished to see that it was well past the dinner hour and closer to midnight. "It's almost midnight, Miss Granger. I for one am hungry and have no wish to continue this tonight."  
  
Her eyebrows shot up at the lateness of the hour, for just last evening Professor Dumbledore had scolded the pair for working too long into the night. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Professor Dumbledore will be so upset!"  
  
Sliding off of the stool, she smoothed the front of her robes and looked at her teacher. "I think that I shall go to the kitchens and scare up something to eat. Would you like me to send one of the house elves round, sir?"  
  
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, he would think later, or maybe the way that her skin glowed in the light of the many candles that burned, but he found himself transfixed by her suddenly. He hadn't even really registered what she had said.  
  
"Sir?" she asked, noticing the blank expression on his face. "Sir?"  
  
He was standing there, looking at her with the oddest expression, she thought. "Sir?" she asked again as she reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. The contact brought him from his trance, his eyes snapping to hers. In the candlelight they glittered like onyx, flashing and hypnotic. She drew a deep breath, "Sir? Are you alright?"  
  
He blinked once, then again before shaking her hand from his shoulder, ignoring the warmth that lingered there. "I am fine, Miss Granger," he answered in his normal tone. "You should go get something to eat and go to bed."  
  
She ducked her head and looked up at him thorough her lashes. Hadn't she just told him as much? "Sir, I –well- do you want me to send Dobby?"  
  
"No." He frowned down at her, his expression now back to the normal coldness. "Get out of here, Miss Granger and get some rest."  
  
Something was wrong, she was sure of it. He looked so odd. Yet, she resisted the urge to question him, knowing that her concern would merely earn her a rebuke from the taciturn man. Instead she nodded and turned on her heel to make her exit from the room. She reached the door and turned back to wish him a good night, but all she saw was the same bewildered expression she had seen a few moments before.  
  
Walking slowly in the direction of the kitchens, she pondered the past months, surprised at the side of her Potions master that she had never seen before.  
  
True, her propensity toward klutziness had continued throughout the summer, for it seemed that she was always stumbling into him as odd moments. But then he had this way of sneaking up on her at the oddest moments. Her un- gracefulness didn't seem to carry over to the lab, she realized gratefully. Perhaps her stumbling over him at odd moments was a subconscious reaction to her feelings for him. They had grown rather than not as she got to know him better. Well got to know as much as he was willing to let her know.  
  
True, she had been nervous at the beginning of her apprenticeship. Worried that his powers at Occulmancy would allow him to see the thoughts that she harbored toward him, yet she felt no interference into her mind at any time.  
  
In the beginning he seemed more annoyed at her than usual, and she understood instinctually that this was because he was a private person, who was set in his ways and unused to sharing his personal space with a relative stranger. Not to mention the fact that she was the source of his recent and frequent injuries.  
  
Their mutual trepidation soon turned into a semi-companionship of sorts, which was inevitable considering the fact that they spent nearly every waking hour together. He was so very intelligent and frequently challenged her knowledge. She, for the first time since her first year felt like she had met her equal.  
  
She stopped and sighed. It was too bad that he would never return her feelings toward him, she thought as she absently tickled the pear that would give her access to the kitchens. On this night, she was sure that she would never meet anyone close to her age that matched him in looks and intelligence.  
  
"Mistress Hermione!" exclaimed a happy looking Dobby when she entered the room. "What can Dobby be getting for you. You are very bad staying up so late. Professor Dumbledore will be so upset!"  
  
Hermione smiled down at her odd little friend. He had been so good to her since the year she had started her doomed S.P.E.W. Taking up for her with the other house elves, when they had been afraid to even look at her.  
  
"Dobby, I know that you regard Professor Dumbledore as your master, but please don't tell him that I have been up this late. He will be ever so angry at Professor Snape."  
  
This was enough for Dobby, who like all of the other house elves, feared the Potions master above all others. Hermione sighed happily as the others pranced into the room offering a variety of her favorite late night sandwiches and cold milk.  
  
Tiredness quickly overtook her and she gratefully grabbed a plateful and ate as if she had been starved for weeks.  
  
Severus stared at the same space on his wall for some minutes after her departure, wondering where that particular stain had originated. It was sort of a splattered kidney shape of a substance he couldn't quite identify. He concluded that it was there as a result of one of Longbottom's many disasters.  
  
"Hell!" he muttered, for the thought of his most inept student led him, quite naturally to that of his most able. Hermione Granger.  
  
Bane of his existence since day one.  
  
Yet not any longer.  
  
His minds was haunted by the vision of her face in the candlelight. The look of concern in her eyes as he bade her good night. She was nothing like he thought she would be.  
  
And, the way she had defended him earlier that summer at Grimmauld Place. He had never heard such fervency. Not that he could blame her for the vociferous way she denied their rumored, and here he cringed, affair. He would have been just as fervent had he been in her position. The idea of him carrying on with a student was ludicrous!  
  
With a weary sigh, he made his way to his chambers and prepared for bed. The Leaching potion was a constant source of frustration to him these days, and if he were inclined to be truthful, so was his increasing regard for Miss Hermione Granger.  
  
It wasn't so much the knowledge that he wasn't what some would consider a handsome man. He didn't dislike his looks, he was rather proud of the fact that he had inherited the strong lines of his Roman ancestry.  
  
He wasn't proud of some of the choices he had made. This was what stopped all thoughts of any sort of relationship with decent woman, for he knew that once his past was exposed, no decent witch would want him. If he were a witch he wouldn't want him.  
  
No. Miss Granger would graduate this year and go off into the whole wide world and succeed at whatever she set her brilliant, beautiful mind to. He would go back to his dungeon rooms and continue to torment his dunderheads and that was that.  
  
It was the life he chose when he threw himself upon the mercy of Albus Dumbledore. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Remember When It Rained  
Chapter Seven  
In The Darkness I Remain  
  
Tap.  
  
Tap tap.  
  
Tap tap tap!  
  
Bushy hair blended with pale skin, flushed from a night of restless sleep moves against the pillow.  
  
Tap tap tap!  
  
A smooth brow furrows in annoyance at the sound invading her sleep. With a muffled sigh she rolls over and buries her face in the softness of her pillow.  
  
Tap tap tap!  
  
"Arghhhh!" she yells in frustration and sits up. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she glances in the direction of the annoyance, to the snowy white owl that is tapping madly at her window.  
  
"Hedwig?"  
  
Opening the window, the creature flies in and alights on her bedpost, a note in its beak. Taking the note, she frowns at it. She was still angry at her friends, although not as angry as she was on that morning earlier in the summer. She had told them not to bother to write unless it was a letter of apology. After the first two weeks she had quite given up on hearing from anyone.  
  
She wasn't sure if she wanted to read it just yet. Throwing her covers aside, she made her way to her bathroom and started her morning ablutions. Perhaps a walk around the lake would be in order.  
  
An hour later found her strolling along the lake, clutching the letter that Hedwig had delivered earlier. With a sigh she opened the parchment and read,  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
We miss you. Really miss you a lot. I know that I wasn't supposed to write unless I apologized to you, and so I do. I'm sorry that I said those things about you and Snape. I really never thought that you and he were, well you know. It is funny though, if it weren't so gross. I mean you and Snape!  
  
Harry is still mad at you. You really shouldn't have hit him Mione. He really likes you, and I mean as in likes you.  
  
Do you think that you could come visit us soon? That is if Snape will let you out of the dungeon. He is treating you alright isn't he? Please write back at least, if you can't visit.  
  
Love, Ron  
  
With a sigh, she folds the note and tucks it in the pocket of her robes. Glancing at the sky, she realizes that she should probably head inside for breakfast. With another sigh, she turns back in the direction of the school and runs directly into the stiff form of Severus Snape.  
  
He had decided, after a night of restless sleep, that a walk before breakfast was just what he needed to clear away the cobwebs in his head. Or better yet to clear away the remaining images of Hermione Granger from his mind.  
  
The morning was bright and clear, still cool and crisp with the beginnings of fall. The students would be returning in a fortnight, so he was determined to enjoy the peace while it lasted. There was not enough time, he thinks, to work on the Leaching potion without interruption. It was this realization that made him quicken his pace, hoping to make the most of his walk before returning to his dungeon lab.  
  
Almost as soon as he had succeeded in not thinking of her anymore, he saw her ahead of him, her head bent in concentration. In spite of the distance he could almost hear her sigh, for it was so deep that her shoulders rose and fell in the effort. He watched her through hooded eyes, as he quickened his steps to catch up to her. He had just reached her and was close enough to reach out and touch her shoulder, when she suddenly turned and ran right into him.  
  
Only this time he didn't fall, rather his arms, as if of their own volition, grabbed her around her waist.  
  
"Miss Granger," he murmured. "I see that once again you fail to pay attention to where you go."  
  
'Oh bugger!' she thought when she first realized that she had managed yet again to run full on into her professor. Yet when he didn't fall, but rather snaked his arms around her waist she was startled, then breathless at the sudden contact.  
  
She closed her eyes, expecting rebuke from the man, but instead found herself shivering as his velvet voice caressed her ears.  
  
"Pr-professor!" she breathed. "I am so very, very-"  
  
"Sorry?" he interrupted softly.  
  
His voice caressed her ears, and the world suddenly disappeared around her. All she could see was his face, all she could hear was the sudden pounding of her heart, all she could feel was the molten heat radiating from under his slightly trembling hands. With a gulp she nodded her head in answer to his question, her throat suddenly dry, and her voice refusing to be heard.  
  
The lips that she thought were cruel and thin, were suddenly desirable to her and all she could think of was how they would feel against hers. Her breath hitched as she realized that those lips were slowly descending towards hers, her breath caught when they tentatively kissed hers. Softly. Reverently. Unsure.  
  
'Oh!' she thought as he ended the kiss and stepped away from her, his breath sounding like a hiss.  
  
"Miss Granger!" he exclaimed softly. "Go back to the school. Now."  
  
She turned and ran, as fast as her legs could carry her back to the school. She flew past Filch, not pausing to acknowledge his angry mutterings about running students, past Minerva McGonagall who looking stunned at her favorite student streaking past her.  
  
Up the stairs, past the portraits, ignoring the admonitions to slow down, to the portrait of The Fat Lady.  
  
"Avalon!" she gasped and rushed through the door, up the stairs and into her room, where she threw herself onto her bed and burst into tears.  
  
She had kissed her professor! Or rather he had kissed her, and it had been, although short, more than she had ever imagined in her dreams. Oh how she had liked that kiss! A lot. He did too, she knew this in her soul. His hands had trembled as he touched her, the world had narrowed down to just them, and she had seen the look in his eyes just before she closed them for the kiss. Oh, that kiss!  
  
She sobbed. Her heart pounding in her chest, the fire he had set racing in her veins and arteries, blossoming in her heart where it burned. Her body tingled, her limbs heavy and yet light. She felt as if she would fly apart if anyone were to touch her at that moment, she had never felt so fragile.  
  
And he sent her away, his voice firm and angry, his face paler than usual, his lips pressed into the stern line, his hand trembling as he pointed a long finger toward the school. Yes she had run, she had run in fear and confusion and desire.  
  
She rolled over to her side, as her tears flowed hot and fast from her eyes. She would never be able to face him again, she thought. Even though she knew that he had kissed her of his own volition, she knew that he would do everything in his power to deny and then tamp down the desire that he felt for her. He would do everything he could to make her hate him. He would make his hermit like soul crawl back into its dark cave, where it had been hiding for so many years that the daylight frightened it.  
  
He watched her as she ran away from him, to the sanctuary of the school, he could feel the pain pouring off of her in waves eddying the air behind her as she fled.  
  
Her kiss had startled him.  
  
His kissing her had startled him. The touch of her body to his had in an instant turned him into a different creature. It was as if she had cast Imperio with her very skin, with those eyes of hers, with her lips.  
  
Her lips, so soft and tender. 'Oh Gods!' he thought running his hands over his face hoping to wipe the memory away. He turned on his heel and strode toward the Dark Forest as fast as his long legs could carry him. He needed to think, to clear his mind before he went back to the school and confessed his crime.  
  
The forest was cooler than the air under the light of the sun, and he slowed his pace wary of the creatures that lurked there. He was a logical man, a thinking man. Hermione Granger was a problem, and he could surely solve the problem with enough thought.  
  
'Fact,' he thought. 'She was beautiful and had grown on him in these last couple of months. Yes, she was, as he had already admitted to himself, his most brilliant student. Yes, she was a good lab partner. Yes, she looked up to him and his knowledge of his craft, and yes, she absorbed knowledge like a sponge absorbs water.'  
  
Looking up at the tree he stopped in front of, jumped up to the lowest branch and hoisted himself up. After climbing up a bit he found a branch that looked wide enough for him to sit and continue to ponder the problem of Hermione Granger.  
  
Hermione Granger.  
  
Hermione.  
  
When had she become Hermione?  
  
Why hadn't he seen it before? The desire that he had seen in her eyes before he kissed her. When had his own feelings change toward her? It had all been so gradual. Her defense of him to her friends, their trip to Diagon Alley to buy her things. Her ready acquiescence to his rules in the lab. Her eagerness to work. All of these things he had attributed to her fear of him. A fear that he had worked hard to instill on all of his students from the first day in his class.  
  
But no, he realized now, with his feet dangling from that high branch, that she was not frightened him and hadn't been for a long time. She respected him to be sure, but she didn't fear him. Now all of the looks he had seen her give him took on a whole new meaning. The way her eyes followed his every movement, the frustrated sighs she made, the way she kept running into him. They had been right, the rumors, at least in part. Her apparent klutziness had been a result of her, oh Merlin, feeling for him.  
  
"Damn!" he whispered.  
  
It could never be. He wouldn't allow it. It was wrong, he was her teacher after all. He had been a Death Eater for the love of Merlin! She was too bright in her soul, for one such as him. She deserved more than what he could offer her.  
  
He swung around the branch and allowed himself to dangle upside down, like a bat, he thought with a smirk. He hadn't done this since his fifth year, but he had always wanted too. With no one around, he indulged his whim. Perhaps the blood rushing to his head would relieve the pressure elsewhere.  
  
"Damn!" he gasped again. There was nothing to it really, the desire he felt for her was surely a passing thing. He could, he would control it and tamp it down. She would become Miss Granger once more. He would be safe. 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Eight**

**Tears of Hope Run Down My Skin**

Neither one of them said anything about the kiss that they shared, and the days faded one into the other. Each had returned to the formality of proper names, the atmosphere between them now changed irrevocably. Neither felt it was proper any more, and Hermione spent as little time as possible in the lab with her Master. There were no more chats or debates, and they both missed the easiness of the days before that morning at the lake.

Suddenly it was the start of a new term, and the beginning of the trio's seventh year. Hermione had decided to accompany Hagrid to the depot to await the arrival of The Hogwarts Express.

The mood was heavy at Hogsmeade Station, even the Express seemed to move slower, as if in anticipation of the battle that all thought was sure to come, sooner rather than later. The students didn't mill around on the platform as they usually did, and the first years clustered around Hagrid instead of cowering at his size.

She had come to greet her friends, to make peace with Harry. She had never heard from him after all and the thought that he might hate her had recently become a painful ache in her heart. Lately her dreams had taken on a frightening realness, her friends dying around her, the blood and the screams, all too vivid. She woke drenched in sweat, her body trembling after each. She knew that this coming year would be the deciding year, the climax of the last six, and the final battle of darkness against light. She couldn't let the year begin with Harry hating her. He would need all of the support he could get this year, so she decided to swallow her pride and be the first to offer the needed apology.

Suddenly, she didn't want to be at the platform anymore, as sadness engulfed her. She didn't want this year to begin, she wanted things to stay as they had been during the summer break. The tenseness of the atmosphere added to her discomfort, she would find Harry later, she thought as she turned to make her way back to the school.

She was lost in her thoughts as she made her way up the steep path, purposely taking the long way back so that she wouldn't run into anyone before the Sorting Feast, enjoying the cool night air. Her wand was at the ready, the path before her lit by the soft glow that the Lumos charm cast from it's tip.

"Miss Granger," his soft spoken greeting startled her out of her reverie. She glanced up, startled by the suddenness of his appearance. "You really should pay more attention to your surroundings."

She frowned at the scolding tone of his voice. "You should stop sneaking up on people, Professor Snape. You'll end up getting hexed one of these days," she muttered.

"Or run over?" he asked softly.

"Or that," she answered with a small smile. "I'm enjoying the night air, what are you doing prowling about?"

"Looking for you actually," he answered.

"Oh?"

"I noticed you leave for the platform, but you didn't return with the carriages," he answered.

She sighed and looked down at her feet. At that moment the moon appeared from behind a cloud, it's faint light turning everything silver. Severus noticed a tear drop, glistening in the moonlight, snake it's way down her cheek. He reached out and brushed it away. She gasped as another tear trembled on her lashes and then fell.

"Why do you cry, Hermione?" he asked before he could stop himself.

The sound of her name on his lips triggered the sobs she had been trying to hold in since she left the platform. Her name, he had said her name again. Not once had she heard him utter it since that morning by the lake. He moved closer to her and stopped, his hands balled into fists at his side, not knowing how to handle the sobbing lady before him. Suddenly she flung herself against him, wrapping her arms around him, her face pressed to his chest as she sobbed and trembled. He closed his eyes against the waves of sadness that seemed to roll from her and he found himself cradling her head against his chest with one hand as the other found a place at the small of her back.

"Shhh,' he whispered softly as the clouds swallowed the moon again. "It will be alright ma petite. It will be alright."

They stood there, with the Moon playing hide and seek with the clouds, until her sobs subsided into sniffles as he stroked the back of her neck with his fingers. A shiver ran through her, and she pressed herself closer to him with a whispered,

"Severus."

Cradling her face in his hands he tilted it up so that he could look at her, the moon popping out again illuminating her tear stained cheeks. His eyes blazing with emotion, he wiped the tears from her with the pads of his thumbs as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Her heart slammed a quick statico in her chest as his tongue caressed her lips, her mouth opening beneath his to let him in. Molten fire raced through her veins, weakening her at the knees and she pulled him tighter to her lest she fall. His hands snaked their way around her waist, gripping and pulling her against the sudden hardness of his arousal. Their tongues swirling and tasting, their lips battling with the kind of ferocity that only desire can invoke. She rubbed herself against him, instinctually and the universe imploded behind his eye lids.

He bent her backwards, lowering her to the ground beneath them, his hands now roaming over her seeking the hem of her robes. The sudden hoot of an owl echoing through the night startled them apart. Breathlessly, they gazed at each other for a moment, then he closed his eyes and held back a sigh.

"We cannot," he whispered, regret ringing in his voice. "This is wrong, Hermione."

"N-no!" she stuttered, her body on fire, aching with need. "Please! Sev-"

"No!" he exclaimed as he pushed himself off of her and to his feet. He offered her his hand, and pulled her to her feet. He looked at her trembling now from desire, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes heavy with lust. She took a step toward him. He flung a hand up in front of him, stopping her.

"This must never happen again," he said in a flat voice. "Never."

"Don't say that!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Don't lie to me! You want this as much as I do, and you know it!"

He turned on his heel and strode away, his cloak billowing behind him like a bat's wings. She followed, not far behind, running to keep up with his long strides wiping tears from her face as she gulped in air. Once she tripped on a root, crying out in pain as her knee hit the ground hard. His steps faltered, as he turned to look behind him. She was sitting on the path, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed. He made to move toward her, but stopped. Seeing that she was uninjured, he turned away from her and continued his trek toward the castle.

She sat there and cried for a time, ignoring the bells that signaled the feast, not wanting to face anyone. Her only thoughts were of him, of their kiss, of the feel of him against her. She had seen something in his eyes, something other than the usual coldness. She felt it in the way he kissed her, the way his hands roamed her body.

"Liar," she muttered. Picking herself up, she brushed the dirt from her robes and from her hair as she made her way to the front steps. At the foot of them, she gazed up at the oak doors, flung wide open, light shining from within.

'You felt it too,' she thought as she took that first step up. 'You felt it too and you will not be able to run from it for long.'

She took a deep breath and wiped her face with a trembling hand. She took the second step, then the third then the fourth, her countenance resolved. She was Head Girl and she had a Sorting Feast to attend.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Nine **

**Tears For You That Will Not Dry**

'Don't lie to me,' her voice heavy with tears, rang in his ears. 'You want this as much as I do, and you know it!'

Hers was the only voice he heard, in spite of the noise in the Great Hall, as the first night of term commenced. He allowed his hands to idly toy with the gold cutlery before him, as he tried to rid his brain of the sound of her tears.

'You want this as much as I do, and you know it!'

He glanced at the crowd of students, using his curtain of hair to shield his eyes from them, and saw her enter the hall with a determined look on her face. She looked as if she had not a care in the world except for her red rimmed eyes. With a few whispered words from him, the signs of her tears faded as she sat in her customary seat next to her friends.

Potter, he saw scooted away from her as she took her seat next to him, earning a scowl from her. He watched as she leaned over to him and watched her lips move as she spoke. He shook his head and rose from his seat, then without a backward glance strode from the room, leaving a stricken looking Hermione behind.

White hot rage coursed through his veins at the way Potter dismissed her obvious attempt at reconciliation. His hand clinched around the handle of his knife as he willed himself to not get up from his seat and pursue Potter. He couldn't answer for what he would do the stupid boy.

'Hermione,' he thought as memories of the kiss in the garden returned unbidden at the sight of her trembling lips as she tried to stifle the tears that threatened to fall. He watched her brush off Weasley's attempts to comfort her and glance up at the Head Table, searching for his eyes. 'What am I to do with you?'

The Sorting and the feast that followed passed by too slowly for his liking. All he desired was to retreat to his chambers, pour himself a drink, fall into his favorite chair and repeat his earlier mantra. It must never happen again, it was wrong, that kiss, his feelings, and his desire for her. Perhaps, he thought, with enough repetition and fire whiskey, he would even come to believe it.

Yet, as he watched her dejected figure leave the hall, he knew that it would not be so. He would never forget the way her mouth felt on his, the way her body had felt against his. Her tears, her words, 'Don't lie to me! You want this as much as I do and you know it!'

She was right, he acknowledged to himself. He had wanted nothing more than to take her there, in the middle of the pathway. To make her his, to take her and possess her, body and soul. But he was her Professor and he was who he was. An ex-Death Eater, a murderer, a practitioner of the Dark Arts. There was a war on, and his role in the war was a dangerous one. Hermione drew attention to herself with her intelligence and power and friendship with Potter. It wouldn't do to put her any further at risk by making his tender feelings toward her known. There were too many spies in Slytherin. He had to tread carefully.

Therefore, he decided as he plopped down on his couch, fire whiskey in hand, he would treat her just as he always had. With disdain. It would hurt her, he knew. She might even come to hate him again, but she would be a little safer. Just a little.

In Gryffindor Tower, far above the dungeons, Hermione Granger was settling into her Head Girls room, albeit with some alacrity. She was, of course, proud that she had attained the highest student position at Hogwarts. She had earned it, she felt. She had worked hard for it and had, in truth, expected nothing less. Yet her joy was tempered by the still existing rift between her and Harry, and the pain in her heart over the rejection by Severus.

Severus, she thought, for he could never be anything but Severus to her now. Severus who kissed her like she had never been kissed before. Severus who didn't think that she was odd because she would rather read than play Quidditch. Severus who was such an enigma to her, someone that she wanted to know better. He was dark and light, proud and humble, powerful and weak. He was so much more than what the students saw.

She plopped down on her bed and grabbed Crookshanks. Hugging him to her, she sighed and allowed a tear to slip down her cheek.

"Oh, Crooks!" she whispered. "Harry hates me, Severus won't tell himself the truth and I just don't know what to think!"

Crookshanks answered her with a purr and snuggled closer. They lay there, the two of them as she cried silent tears while she stroked her familiar's fur.

He room was silent except for the steady purr of the half Kneazle half Tom Cat and the cricket's song that floated through the open window. Eventually her tears ceased to fall and her eyes drifted closed as sleep overtook her.

AN: Sorry it's so short, but this is a bridge chapter. I promise, more action to come, including a wide variety of citrus! Live long and prosper, Titania


	10. Chapter Ten

**Remember When it Rained**

**Chapter Ten**

**They Magnify The One With In**

Hermione awoke with a pounding headache, she always did when she cried herself to sleep. Slipping gingerly from her bed, she made her way into her bathroom, and groped through the cabinet for her headache potion. Gulping it down quickly she leaned against the door and waited for it to take effect.

Once the pain had disappeared, she absently brushed her teeth, and then hopped into the shower. She felt sluggish and tired, hopefully the shower would perk her up, she thought.

So it was that Hermione Granger began her first day as Hogwarts Head Girl and Seventh-year student. Not the happiest of beginnings, she whispered with a trembling voice as the events of last night replayed themselves in her mind.

She didn't know what hurt more, Harry's rejection of her attempted apology or Severus' rejection. All she could think of now was making it thought breakfast and her first day, which she hoped wouldn't include Potions.

Dressing her now familiar uniform and throwing her robes over that, she grabbed her full book satchel and headed down to the Common Room, where she was greeted by the silent persons of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

The later greeted her with a tentative smile and the former looked a bit sheepish. She smiled at the pair and whispered, "Good morning Harry, Ron."

The three stood there for a few seconds staring at each other. Finally, Harry took her hand and said, "Hermione, please forgive me. I am so sorry and I've missed you so much this summer."

With a sob, she nodded her head and flung herself into his arms. The three stood there, hugging for a long while until the rumbling of Ron's stomach made it's self heard. They giggled all the way down to the Great Hall.

The silence of Severus' rooms was broken only by the sounds of phials and bottles clinking against each other as he, by the light of a single candle rummaged through an antique cabinet.

"Ahhh," he sighed as he emerged, phial in hand. Quickly uncorking it, he raised a trembling hand to his lips and downed the contents in one swallow.

With the single candle floating ahead of him, he shuffled his way into the bathroom, where after relieving himself, he stepped into a steaming hot shower.

Thus began the first day of term for Severus Snape, Potions master of Hogwarts.

'Perhaps I shouldn't have drunk the entire bottle of scotch,' he thought as he shampooed his dark locks, massaging his scalp as he did so. 'Thank Merlin for Hang Over Cures.'

He would have to face her today. Not at Potions, thank the Gods, but he knew that he would see her at some point. Perhaps in The Great Hal over a meal. After the passionate kisses they shared on the path last night, he didn't know if he could face her.

Especially since he knew that she was right. He was lying to himself. There was no way to get around it and the forced formality that they had shared since that first kiss by the lake had done nothing to quell the feelings he had for her.

Damn it, but he didn't need this complication. Why, oh why couldn't he have given himself a more firm talking to, he wondered, recalling that afternoon when he had hung upside down from his tree. He had decided then that he would stop the feelings that were swelling in his soul for her.

It seemed that his soul hadn't listened.

"Maledicalo!" he hissed and began dressing for the day. Perhaps all was not lost, for there were First Years to terrorize, he thought with a crooked smile, and he was in just the right mood to do it.

He made his way from the dungeons to the Great Hall, he was hungry for once and ready to eat. The sooner he got this day over with the better. His reverie was interrupted by the sound of giggling. One of the giggles was easily recognizable, and sure enough the terrible trio, arm in arm had just turned the corner nearly running into him.

The smiles were wiped from their faces as if chalk off of a board and silence reigned for a moment.

"Misters Potter, Weasley. Miss Granger. Ten points each from Gryffindor for carrying on in the halls,' he muttered as he swept past them and into the Hall.

"Bastard," Ron whispered in a hiss.

Harry looked over at Hermione and frowned. "I can guess how your summer went then, judging by his attitude."

"Looks and sounds perfectly normal to me," Ron chimed in.

Hermione nodded at Ron and said, "Actually he wasn't all that bad this summer. No snarkier then usual."

Ron gave her an appraising glance before pasting a smile on his face and saying, 'Come on! I'm starved."

'So,' Severus thought as he strode toward the head table, 'the trio is reunited. Lovely.'

Taking his customary seat, he grabbed his already full coffee mug and took a sip, letting the heat burn is tongue and throat, welcoming the distraction the pain caused. Te last thing he needed to dwell on at the moment, or any moment for that matter, was Hermione Granger. He'd never survive the day.

He tried not to notice how cheerful she appeared to be as she talked to Potter and Weasley. He tried not to notice that her cheerfulness was forced and that she often let her gaze slip toward him. He tried not to notice that her concealing charm wasn't quite strong enough to hide the dark circles under her eyes, or that her nose was just a bit swollen. He didn't allow himself to think that perhaps she had cried herself to sleep, and that her tears were for him. He pretended that he hadn't noticed the slight tremor of her hands as she raised her tea cup to her lips and took a cautious sip. He pretended that he absolutely did not notice the way her tongue caressed her lower lip as she licked a drop of tea from it. He forbade himself from thinking of that tongue licking something all together different from her lower lip.

With a thump, he set his mug down on the table and stood. Without looking at his fellow teachers he, in a whirl and flurry of black, strode from the dais and through the staff door.

Hermione glanced, once more at the Head table, as she caught is departure out of the corner of her eyes. 'Gods he looks like Hell this morning,' she thought as she chewed idly on a piece of toast. 'Good.'


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Let The Outside Slowly Die**

"Open your books to page four hundred and fifty-seven," he boomed gliding into the classroom, door slamming dramatically behind him.

On this, the first Potions class of the new term for the N.E.W.T. level students, they quietly complied as if sensing the dark temperament of their Professor. For a few moments the only sound heard was the rustling of paper as the students complied.

Now, standing on the dais, leaning nonchalantly on the podium, Severus Snape allowed his cold gaze to sweep the room.

In their usual seats was the Terrible Trio, he was careful to avoid eye contact with Miss Granger, Draco Malfoy sans Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, a few students from the houses of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and then surprise, surprise, Neville Longbottom.

He allowed his gaze to linger for just a minute longer on Neville, and was satisfied to see the boy cringe slightly. 'Perhaps the term isn't a total loss after all,' he thought with a smirk which sent poor Neville atremble.

"Read the lesson and then brew your potions. As this is a N.E.W.T. level class I will accept nothing less than perfection from all of you!"

With that announcement, he took his seat at his desk and pulled a book toward him.

Pretending to read, he allowed himself to observe the students as they read and worked. But there was one student in particular that he took an interest in.

She was reading her course materials, lips moving as she read to herself. This was going to be an intolerable year, he thought as he watched her. How was he ever going to avoid the truth that was staring him right in the face?

He allowed his eyes to slide over the room again, and noted with satisfaction that the students appeared to be obeying his instructions. Yet when his eyes again came to rest on Hermione he noted that her cauldron was already set up in her burner, and her hand was in the air.

"Miss Granger, I see that the summer break has done nothing to cure you of your Know It All behavior," he grumbled. "What do you wish to enlighten us with today?"

His face was kept carefully void of expression, save the characteristic sneer, but his heart contracted at the hurt that flashed through her eyes. She met his gaze, face flushing then growing pale and answered,

"I have finished reading the chapter and would like to fetch the –"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being a show off, Miss Granger, and you can wait until everyone else is ready to fetch theirs."

She ducked her head, as tears suddenly flooded her eyes and made the effort to re-read the words before her again. She had been expecting cruelty, she told herself as she concentrated on not crying, but somehow the reality of it hurt more this time than it had the years prior.

'Stupid!' she silently berated herself. 'To think that he would change after this summer.' Shaking her head, she drew a deep breath. 'Well, no not stupid Hermione. This is a new year, there is a war on and the son of Voldemort's favorite Death Eater is sitting three desks behind you.'

Somewhere in her musings, she heard Severus instruct the class that they could retrieve the components of their potions and she automatically complied, taking care to avoid glancing at him on her way to and from the supply cabinet.

"Whew! That was worse than I thought it would be!" Ron exclaimed as he took his seat at the long table and began to spoon mashed potatoes onto his plate. "I thought you said that Snape wasn't all that bad anymore, Mione."

She rolled her eyes at him, "Well Ron, Professor Snape, is, as you saw, the same as he ever was."

"I mean really Ron," Harry chimed in. "This is Snape you're talking about here!"

Hermione glanced at the head table and met the cool black eyes of the man he loved. He arched a brow at her before bending over his bowl, spooning soup into his mouth. Her heart contracted at his rejection of her. 'The bastard!' she thought as she bit into her roast beef and forced herself to attend to the conversation that was taking place between her friends.

Harry had spent the day trying to make up for his stupid behavior over the course of the summer, and, she thought, he had done a yeoman's job of it. If he wasn't carrying her books for her, he was rushing ahead to open a door or patting her on the back and giving her a proud smile at a job well done in Transfiguration. Hermione smiled at him when she caught his eye and was rewarded with a look of genuine affection from him.

'Thank God,' she thought in relief. 'At least Harry loves me again.'

She smiled again and reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze as she returned his smile. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Hermione didn't notice the black gaze of Severus Snape upon her as he took in the scene being played out at the Gryffindor table.

He scowled at his Shepard's Pie. 'But what did you expect, Severus?' he silently berated himself. 'You were the one who turned her away.'

It was her small hand reaching out and taking Potter's that was his undoing. He wouldn't sit there and watch her flirt with any other much less Potter! The sound of his chair scraping the flagstones drew the attention of more than one student, each of which he rewarded with a scowl as he swept from the room.

Hermione watched his exit, eyebrows squenched together in consternation, for just a fraction of a moment before she turned her attention back to Ron and Harry, who had not noticed Severus' exit. Hearing that they had begun to talk about Quidditch, she began to contemplate her roast beef, and missed the speculative look that Dumbledore was giving her.

Later that night, Hermione slipped from the Common Room to begin her assigned patrol of the school. She sighed as she stepped further into the dark corridor, torches bursting into flame before her, their warm light reflecting off of her shiny new Head Girl's badge.

She walked and thought, mostly of the up coming year and what it would bring. She knew that Voldemort was getting more active, for Severus had been called away several times during the summer and had always returned dusty and exhausted.

"And cranky," she said aloud.

"Talking to yourself Miss Granger? Perhaps I did allow you to spend too much time in the Dungeons."

A startled Hermione jumped and turned, wand drawn. "Professor Dumbledore!" she exclaimed in a relieved tone as she lowered her wand.

"Good evening Miss Granger," he said with an affectionate smile. "I'm sorry for startling you and grateful that you didn't hex me! I shall have to be a bit noisier next time."

"Good evening, sir," she said with a teasing smile. "You are as bad as Sev-I mean Professor Snape."

He regarded the now flushing face of the young witch, a serious expression on his face, the twinkle in his eye a little dimmer. "Miss Granger, you are an intelligent young lady and I will not insult you by being anything but direct with you."

"Thank you sir," she said as a cold sense of foreboding slithered it's way through her veins.

"Shall we walk, Miss Granger?"

She allowed him to take the lead, following his silent form through the corridors until they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded his rooms. As the silence continued, and fear continued to shaft it's way into her heart, they rode the stone staircase to the top and she followed him though the door.

"Please sit down, Hermione," he said indicating a comfortable looking chair covered in chintz. "You look chilled, perhaps a cup of tea?"

She nodded wordlessly and with a wave of his hand a tea service appeared before them. Out of habit, she reached forward and looked at him, her mouth opening to ask how he took it. But before she could utter the words he said in a pleasant tone,

"Black with two sugars please, Hermione."

Trying to gather her wits, she made a great show of pouring out and preparing his cup, followed by her own. All of this he looked upon with the fondness he had come to feel for her in her years as a student.

Albus Dumbledore was not as dotty as those outside of the confines of Hogwarts thought him to be. Nor was he omniscient. He was merely observant and had the experience of a long life as a Professor and a wizard. There was nothing he hadn't seen before, and the fact that his Potions master and the brightest witch in the school had formed an affection toward one another.

And while he loved Severus Snape like a son, there were some things that couldn't be overlooked for the sake of affection. There was such a thing as propriety, and school rules.

"Don't be frightened, Hermione," he said in a gentle tone. He signed inwardly as her tea cup trembled in her hands. "There is no one in trouble yet. However, as I told you in the corridor, I will not insult you by being anything but direct with you."

Here he paused to regard the pale countenance of the young woman before him, and he smiled.

"Severus Snape is a complex creature, Hermione, as I am sure you have surmised by now."

"Yes sir."

"Nor is he an easy man to get to know, much less gain the trust of."

"Yes sir," her voice trembled with her hand as she raised the cup to her lips and sipped.

"You, Hermione are one of the brightest students I have ever had the honor of having under this roof. You have proved yourself to be unswervingly loyal and brave in addition to your intelligence."

"Th-thank you sir."

"Hermione, be careful. Keep your own counsel and always be cautious. This year feels different, we all sense the beginning of the end and I would not have you endangered any further than you already are by merely being Harry's friend. Nor will I have Professor Snape endangered any more than he already is."

She gazed, unblinking at him, suddenly unafraid. He knew and he didn't mind her love for Severus!

"Yes sir," she said with a smile, slight and tremulous.

"Very good," he replied with a smile. "I will not remind you of the policy regarding relationships and proper decorum between teachers and students, for I am sure that you are well aware of them, Hermione."

"Thank you sir," she said sadly as she set the tea cup down on the desk and rose from her seat. She quickly made her way to the door and turned to his voice as he said quietly,

"Do not worry Hermione, the year will pass faster than you think and perhaps would want it to."

She nodded slowly then walked through the door, leaving Albus Dumbledore to his own thoughts.


	12. Chapter Tewlve

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Running Down**

Days faded into nights and soon a fortnight had passed. For Hermione and Severus the days hadn't been easy and the nights had been filled with dreams of each other. Neither had slept very well and it was beginning to take its toll on both parties.

Severus Snape wasn't the best of men under normal circumstances, but the lack if sleep, the meetings with Voldemort and the stupidity of the dunderheads in his First Year classes had his temper boiling lava hot. It was inevitable that his temper would erupt, and it was the unkindness of fate that determined that the first victim of Mount Severus would be Neville Longbottom and by her mere association with him, Hermione.

"I have put up with you and your ineptitude for nearly seven years, Longbottom!" he spat. "And just when I begin to think that you have done all of the damage you can do you surprise me yet again!"

He was towering over poor, trembling Neville, his dark beady eyes narrowed, and face paler than normal save for the angry flush across his sharp cheeks. One hand gripped the wrist of Hermione, who had tried to flee the room with the rest of the class whom he had excused with a shout, the other held Neville by the collar of his robe.

"You are forbidden from setting foot in my classroom ever again, Longbottom! I don't care if Voldemort himself is chasing you, if you step one toe over my threshold I will hex you! Now get out!"

He pushed the boy from him, lips curling in distain. Hermione now began to struggle against his grip, her heart pounding fiercely against her chest.

"Hold still Miss Granger!" he hissed as the door to the room slammed shut behind the fleeing form of the now shamed Neville. He roughly pulled her closer to him, grabbing her other wrist as she made to hit him.

"That will be fifty points for attempting bodily harm on a teacher, Miss Granger and detention tonight for failing to prevent today's disaster!"

"What!" she yelled, stunned into stillness at his words. "That's not fair! You have spent the last six years telling me not to help Neville and now you give me detention for obeying you!"

"I would advise you to shut up Miss Granger before you make your situation worse!" he hissed as he lowered his face to hers.

Hermione however, was past the point of no return when it came to her temper and his threats meant nothing to her at that moment.

"No! You shut up you fowl fiend! I am sick and tired of you!" she shouted. "You follow me around every night on my patrols, don't deny it , I know you're there in the shadows! You have, for the last fortnight, consistently been harder on me and the other Gryffs than normal and there is no excuse for your treatment of Neville! You-"

"THAT IS ENOUGH GRANGER!" he bellowed, his voice ringing through the room. She was startled into frightened silence as he pulled her toward the door. "I would advise you," he continued in a menacing tone. "to leave this room and pray that I do not report your behavior to the Headmaster."

"No!" she shrieked.

"Yes," he answered with a smirk, his tone quiet and deadly. "Whether or not I do report you is entirely for you to determine. That shall be done at your detention this evening. Be here at seven. Do not be late. Now get out."

The door swung open before her and she fled, leaving even her book bag behind. Severus leaned against the door jab listening to the sound of her footfalls.

She ran all the way though the corridors until she reached her room, where she threw herself on her bed and howled into her pillow. Crookshanks, frightened by his mistress's sudden entry, had scooted under the bed. Now, upon hearing the distress of his owner, he leapt up onto her back and purred.

"Oh Crooks!" Hermione gasped, as she rolled over and pulled him into her arms. "He's so awful!"

If Crookshanks had been able to reply, it would have been cut off by the loud pounding on Hermione's door. Instead the cat let out a startled yowl and leapt off of Hermione, causing her to wince as his claws accidentally dug into her chest.

"Hermione! Open up!" yelled Harry from the other side of the door.

His pounding hands were joined by another pair as Ron shouted for her to open the door as well.

Hermione strode angrily across the room and flung the door open, and then turned on her heel and made her way back to her bed.

The boys exchanged knowing looks at her expression. Knowing her as well as they did they could tell that she would have cheerfully hexed the first person who crossed her path should they tread dangerously. Harry wisely decided that in this particular circumstance a bit of humor was in order.

"So Mione, shall I hex him? I'm sure that I could manage an invisibility hex or something on those robes of his. Say in the middle of the Great Hall at supper?"

"Yea!" Ron chimed in. "Imagine the look on his face if he had to walk the length of the hall in nothing but his all togethers!"

"No, no," Harry continued. "Imagine what Madam Pomprey would do to Snape because of all the students vomiting when they saw Snape naked. Not to mention all of the psychiatric care we would need!"

"Well it might not be all that bad, Harry." Ron continued. "Maybe one of the Slytherin girls would be so overcome with lust that she would just jump him and give him a good rogering on the spot. He could use one that's for sure!"

Hermione, who had been listening to the back and forth between her friends, mouth quirking slowly into a smile, finally laughed out loud.

"Ron! If that happened the entire school would have to be confined to St. Mungo's!" she said with a laugh. "Then we wouldn't be able to take our N.E.W.T.'s!"

Each of the boys rolled their eyes at that last bit and flung themselves on the bed next to her.

"So," Harry said as he picked at one of her curls and twirled it around a finger. "What happened? The last time I saw him that angry was when he caught me in his Pensive."

Hermione took Ron's hand and sighed. "He was so awful! Poor Neville is not supposed to return, Professor Snape kicked him out and told him that he'd hex Neville if he dare set a toe into the room."

'No way!" Ron shouted. "We should go to Dumbledore!"

"Wait Ron!" Hermione exclaimed throwing up a hand. "It get's worse. I have detention tonight at seven, and he said that if I'm late he will have me expelled."

Harry dropped the lock of hair he had been toying with and growled, "That git! He can't do that to you! Detention? For what? Not helping Neville?"

"No," she answered with a sigh. "I tried to hit him."

"No way!" hooted Ron. "You tried to hit Snape? And you are alive to tell the tale?"

She merely answered him with a wry smile.

'When one is faced with a situation that one is dreading,' Hermione thought as she made her way down the dungeon corridor toward the Potions classroom. 'time always seems to fly by.'

She paused at the door and noted that it was exactly one minute before seven. With a shudder she raised her hand, rapped on the rough wood of the door and opened it.

"Miss Granger," Severus Snape greeted her in a satiny voice. "Right on time I see."

She chose to remain silent as she made her way to the front of the room and took the front desk by her book bag.

He was reclining in his chair, feet propped on the surface of the desk, regarding her from under hooded eyes. He caressed his lower lip with a finger tip, as if contemplating his next action, when in reality he was pondering the way that her fear of him made her eyes sparkle in a manner that left him nearly breathless with wanting.

He regarded her sitting before him, chewing on her cheek in an effort to remain silent, as her eyes darted to his and back down at the desk again. Now that she was in his presence, he had no clue what to do with her torn as he was between assigning her the most unpleasant task he could think of or grabbing her up into his arms and kissing her breath away.

Silence reined in the room for a full five minutes as each challenged the other in their contest of wills, but in the end Hermione was no match for the patience of Severus and she asked, "Why have you been following me?"

With a hiss, he kicked his feet off of the desk and rising from his seat, strode to her in two long steps. "Miss Granger," he murmured, leaning on the desk with his hands. "Do not flatter yourself with the supposition that I have been following you. Why would I waste my time in such a manner?"

She met his eyes then, hers flashing in anger and hurt. "Please don't insult my intelligence Severus," she hissed. "I know you've been following me for crying out loud, I know the way you smell."

He turned from her, unable to deny her words. "Clean that pile of cauldrons," he ordered instead pointing to the nearby cleaning station.

Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. "Fine then," she yelled. "Live in denial for all I care!"

Facing the wall behind his desk, he heard stomp her way to the work station, the squeaking of the taps and the rush of water telling him that she had begun the task he had set her to. He suppressed a sigh and sat back down in his chair, pulling a stack of parchment toward him.

Silence, broken by the scratch of quill on parchment, which was drowned out by the scrubbing of the cauldrons, reined in the room for a time. Hermione used the cover of the noise to vent her spleen toward the scrub brush, while Severus directed his ire to the inadequate work of his Second years whom, he thought, had managed to forget all that they had learned in their first year. Judging by the quality of their work at least. Severus, not for the first time in his career, told himself that he was getting too old for this job as he made slashes through the work of a student with the blood red ink he so favored.

Soon enough he was finished with his task, leaving him time to observe (he really couldn't help it) the irrepressible Miss Granger. Who was, he noted, looking particularly lovely this evening. Lovely in spite of the fact that her body language was screaming anger and frustration.

Her knowledge of his following her had not really surprised him, he merely didn't like to be confronted about his growing obsession with her. Yet, on the second night of term, he had been out doing his own patrol, when her scent in a corridor drew him in and down the path behind her.

Careful to keep within the many shadows, he watched her cautiously make her rounds, checking all of the familiar places that students would hide. It was early yet in the year for relationships of a romantic nature to form, but one could not dismiss this years Fred or George Weasley from getting an early start on the "fun", as it were.

And so it had begun, his nightly stalking of her. He told himself that the corridors were dangerous, especially to one as close to Potter as Miss Granger. He would, on some nights berate himself for being unable to resist the need to follow her, to watch her from afar, to try to catch her scent in the air. She would frequently turn around, peering into the shadows, brow wrinkled in concentration. On one or two occasions she opened her mouth as if to speak, only to change her mind and turn away.

He would return to his chambers, late at night and throw himself into a cold shower, or on more occasion than one, seek to relieve his desire for her with his own hand. He would whisper her name "Hermione" on those nights as he hit his peak, only to look in the mirror as he cleaned himself up and curse himself as a pervert. His dreams would be full of her, naked and writhing beneath him on some occasions or smiling at him as she chased him around the lake on others. He couldn't escape her.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Essence of Her**

"And to think that I actually kissed the bastard," she exclaimed under her breath. A moment later she realized that he was actually standing behind her, having silently crossed the room. Her hands stilled in the soapy cauldron.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he whispered against her ear. "And to think that you even enjoyed it too."

Her breath hitched as he inhaled her scent, his nose to her neck, his lips pressing against the soft skin of her nape. She stood powerless as a hand touched her hip, running then slowly up her side to reach around and cup a lush breast in his hand. His lips continued their exploration of her neck as his fingers toyed with her now erect nipple and she sighed a ragged sigh.

"Yes Hermione," he whispered against her skin raising goose bumps. "I think that you have a preference for bastards, don't you?"

She found herself nodding slowly, her blood thrumming in her veins her heart pounding.

"Severus," she sighed as he turned her to him. He cupped her face with his free hand and brought his lips down to hers in a searing kiss.

Suddenly, she was pressed against his hard body his hands running up and down her back, his tongue fencing with hers as they both tried to consume each other. Soon she was devoid of her robes and his fingers were making their way with her pearl buttons until her lacy bra was exposed and her nipples even harder in the cool air of the dungeons.

"Oh God!" she whispered as a hand delved into a cup, brushing against her bare skin. He growled as he tore his lips away from hers and took possession of her breast with his heated mouth. She gasped and ground against him, her mind reeling at the hardness of his arousal.

He lifted his head and met her eyes, his darker with lust, his face taut with arousal. "Yes Hermione," he hissed. "That is for you ma petite, only you."

Somehow she found herself with her legs wrapped around his waist as he made his way across the classroom and through the anteroom door. She rained kisses on his neck, her hands raking his hair, her lips uttering endearments that would have made her mother blush. He picked up his pace, kicking open another door in his haste. Her mouth on his skin, the feel of her body against his was driving his lust to a fever pitch. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. His bed and her writhing beneath him.

Before she knew it she felt his weight upon her, as his lips plundered hers once more, his hands ripping the material of her shirt open further and pulling her bra apart. Her skin was amazingly soft and he found himself wanting to touch every inch of her. He feathered kisses down her throat, tasting her skin traveling once again to the tip of her inviting breast. She moaned and arched into his mouth as his tongue rasped against her. He wanted her needing him with the same mindless energy he was feeling, every bit of him demanded it.

His hands found the hem of her short skirt and he stroked her thighs, seeking the soft moist curls and the treasure that they guarded. He stroked her soft folds once, twice before delving a finger into the tight, hotness of her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she awoke to the sudden weight of Crookshanks on her chest. She ran a trembling hand through her hair, her skin glowing with a fine sheen of perspiration. "Oh Crooks! Thank God you woke me, I was having the most, most vivid dream!"

Crookshanks purred as she began to stroke his fur, snuggling down against his mistress and reveling in the warmth of her blankets.

She lay there under her covers, trembling for a few minutes as she stroked her cat's fur, willing her mind to forget the vivid dream she had just been awoken from. Finally, she gently set the Kneazle aside and arose, deciding that a bath would be in order. A bath with lots of soothing herbs, followed by a cup of tea and some homework, for she knew that sleep would be impossible now.

A few minutes later found her soaking in steaming water, tears coursing down her cheeks, not suspecting that deep in the dungeon chambers of Severus Snape, he was dreaming much of the same.

Her head was thrown back into the soft white pillow as he thrust in and out of her with powerful, even strokes. Her nails raked his back as she mewed his name. She was hot and tight and he didn't know how much longer he could hold off, but she was so close to the tumble over the precipice that he was driving her toward.

"Come for me Hermione," he whispered in a ragged voice. His lips descended on a taut nipple, his teeth biting gently down on the tip, sending her over the edge crying his name.

He awoke with a breathless start and a raging erection that throbbed with every beat of his heart. He fairly leapt from his bed and made his way to his bathroom, intent on a cold shower to relieve the ache. He refused, he told himself, to relieve himself as he was wont to do lately in the usual manner. It helped nothing really, it only contributed to his present state of misery.

The water hit him in an icy torrent causing him to gasp. He forced himself to endure the discomfort, he told himself that he had to stop thinking of her. As the water did it's work, he vowed to begin taking the Dreamless Sleep he had brewed just yesterday. If the dreams continued he couldn't honestly say that he would be able to resist the lures of Hermione Granger until the end of the school year.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**A Day In The Life of a Seventh Year Girl**

She wasn't a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, especially these days. Her nights were filled with dreams of her love and the erotic tone of the dreams made for a decidedly disturbed sleep. After all, waking up all wet with perspiration and throbbing with desire disturbed her needed sleep pattern.

This morning was no different from the mornings prior, and those had been many. Four months worth in fact.

Not that anyone really noticed, for she had become quite adept with glamour's lately, concealing the dark circles under her eyes and the pallid appearance of her complexion. She had begun using said glamour's after Ginny remarked on morning over breakfast that she was getting to look like Snape. She had run up to her room, thinking that perhaps Ginny had been exaggerating. One look in the mirror told her that her friend was not. Hence the charms.

Her parents had even been fooled for she had passed the whole of the Christmas holidays in an apparently cheerful manner to them, participating with more enthusiasm in the usual family visits and such than she had in years prior. The break had seemed painfully long to her, for she had in her mind spent the whole of it wondering what Severus was doing and whether or not he was missing her.

Apparently he had not, for her return to class was not remarked upon by him. And so the weeks went on.

So this morning began the first day of the fifth month that Severus Snape refused to look at her or indeed even talk to her outside of what was necessary for instruction. Even then his tone was acerbic to say the least.

Hermione's heart was broken.

She finished casting the glamour and sighed. It wasn't getting any easier, his treatment of her. Her heart refused to admit that perhaps he didn't love her after all, in spite of the intensity of his kisses that night. Yet the practical side of her head was telling her that she had to move on.

It was something that she could not permit herself to do.

She walked to her bed and grabbed her book bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she pasted a smile on her face and exited the room.

Down the staircase she went, where she was greeted by the smiling faces of Harry, Ron and Ginny. All oblivious to the tumult inside of her. The talk naturally turned to subjects like Quidditch and other mundane topics after their general inquiries into her night. She suppressed a frustrated sigh and squelched the urge to run and hide in her room for the day.

Her breakfast was picked at, as usual, with her eating only enough to keep her going and to keep her friends and Professors from remarking. Her conversation was forced, but not beyond her traditional bounds. Her morning crankiness was something that her housemates were accustomed to.

History of Magic passed the same as usual, followed by Transfiguration, lunch and a free period.

Which she used for a trip to the library, of course.

Her friends had other ideas apparently for they were lying in wait for her. Immediately upon her entrance they were dragging her out into the hall and clamoring for a snowball fight.

"Come on Hermione," Ron whined. "It's a nice layer of snow and a snow ball fight with out you isn't a snowball fight!"

"Ron," she replied sharply. "It's NEWTS this year, in case you hadn't noticed and I have to study."

"You study too much Hermione," Harry chimed in with a gentle tone. His hand caressed her cheek. "You look like you need sometime out of doors anyway."

She looked at him, her expression one of surprise. He had the grace to blush slightly as he answered,

"Your glamour is slipping, Mione."

He had noticed. Hermione felt done for. Her expression was one of incredulity for Harry gave a bark of a laugh.

"You have been studying then!" she exclaimed in delight as the realization dawned on her.

He rewarded her with a light hearted chuckle. "See? You're rubbing off on me. Finally. Surely that deserves a reward?"

Thus she found herself bundled in her warmest cloak, out of doors and covered in snow. She hadn't felt this light hearted in months, she thought as another snowball smacked her in her face. She squealed from the coldness and threw hers in Harry's direction, missing him entirely. Ron rode to her rescue however and managed to land his over Harry's glasses. His gloating was cut off by his high pitched scream, for Ginny had managed to sneak up on him and drop a good sized snowball down his back.

His squealing attracted the attention of several Hufflepuff third years, who threw themselves into the game with unrestrained enthusiasm.

All too soon it was time to head in, for their next class started soon and it wouldn't do to show up sopping wet and shivering. Professor Snape would surely find a way to deduct points for their appearance. Not to mention the fact that the dungeons were always chilly.

Hermione's mood sobered very quickly as she descended the stairs. Once again she was exposing herself to the sweet torture of his presence. Once again she found herself filling with the hope that today would be different.

And it was. But not for the reasons she was hoping for.

It was different because she was paired once again with Neville and he was in rare form.

For once, she didn't catch the error that caused the reaction inside of his cauldron. For once she was completely oblivious to the roiling going on inside of the vessel. She was the only one who didn't duck as the cauldron exploded, spattering its contents on her and spraying her form with shards of iron.

The last thing she did note, before darkness claimed her was the concerned eyes of Severus Snape gazing down at her causing her to smile.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**The War Within**

Blood had poured from her wounds, leaving a crimson trail across the floor of the usually pristine infirmary and staining the white sheets of the bed. Madam Pomprey took a deep breath and checked over her patient once more, satisfied that the injuries were healing properly and that her pale complexion was slowly regaining some of its colour.

Behind the partition, stood a very worried Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. All waiting for word on Miss Granger's condition. It was a situation that for once Poppy was ill prepared for. She wondered if her friends had any inkling of just how ill Hermione Granger was, as she cursed them in her head. She was angry that at them all for their apparent lack of observation skills, especially the boys. They were supposed to be her best friends, yet her appearance had escaped even their notice.

Then again, she thought somewhat charitably, Hermione Granger had cast a very good glamour.

"You lot can come around now!" she exclaimed, her anger apparent in the tightness of her voice. She glanced at the two boys disdainfully and then turned her gaze on the Headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said. "Miss Granger will be fine, but I am afraid that she needs to stay here for a few days to get adequate rest."

Albus swept past the boys, who were looking down at their friend with expressions of horror mixed with worry, and grimaced at the sight before him. He truly cared for her, like a daughter perhaps, but certainly with the affection that an instructor holds for a particularly brilliant student. The Miss Granger lying in the bed was a pale copy of the vibrant girl who had spent the whole of last year plowing down Severus Snape. He suddenly felt guilty.

"And where is Severus Snape?" Pomprey inquired in an indignant tone. "He's the reason for this- this unhealthy, under nourished girl! He works her too hard I dare say in between her regular classes and her apprenticeship! To merely carry her up here, trailing this mess on my floor, dump her on the bed and flee!"

Albus held up a calming hand and replied, "I believe that Professor Snape is currently disciplining Mister Longbottom and cleaning up the mess in his classroom, Poppy. There is no need to be so hard on him, for the fault of Miss Granger's condition falls on my shoulders as well as his and hers."

Harry's head whipped up at these words and he fixed a glare in old wizard's direction.

"It's not Hermione's fault that she is like this!" he remarked forcefully. "Professor Snape has never liked us and I'm sure that he is taking it all out on Hermione!"

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and stroked it lightly with his thumb. "That's not what Professor Dumbledore is saying, Harry. You know Hermione. Always work, work, work and Snape always releases her before eleven." He looked at the Headmaster and gave him a slight smile. "Besides Snape isn't being more than his usual self anyway."

"That's Professor Snape, Ronald," Albus chided with a smile.

Harry still glaring at the wizard asked, "How is this partly your fault then?"

Albus reached down and brushed a curl off of her forehead and murmured, "That is between me and Miss Granger, Harry."

Both boys looked at him, eyebrows raised to their hairlines. This elicited a soft chuckle from Albus. "Don't worry boys, it's nothing to be overly worried about and I will soon set it to rights."

He turned to Madam Pomprey, who had been watching the scene before her with some consternation and said, "Let me know when she wakes if you please Madam, I shall inform her Professors about her absence for the next week."

She nodded at him, looking somewhat relieved at his gentle tone. He walked to her and patted her shoulder.

"Thank you for your honest words, Poppy, and for taking such good care of our Miss Granger."

He was rewarded with a smile.

The fire crackling merrily did nothing to ward off the chill that he felt deep in his bones. Somewhere above him Hermione Granger lay in a potion induced coma, because she needed her rest. At least that was what a very tired looking Albus had told him about two hours ago.

So close and yet so far away. He closed his eyes and took another sip of his wine, allowing the beverage to warm him.

He had stopped his stalking of Miss Granger some months ago, as the dreams of her served only to drive him to distraction. He thought that perhaps by ignoring her, she would stop haunting him. When that hadn't worked he resorted to his usual behavior toward her and her friends. Cruelty in the classroom and coldness in the lab. He, in the hopes that Miss Granger would tire of his treatment of her, quit her apprenticeship, and so he had been sure to assign her the meanest of tasks. It was only Albus strict orders that she be sent to bed by eleven p.m. that kept him from running her to exhaustion.

Apparently she had been doing that on her own.

He hadn't missed the look in her eyes, the veiled longing in them, as she attended to her lessons. He had noticed that she had dropped a bit of weight and that her eyes were darkened by tiredness, but he had attributed it to the fact that she had a heavy schedule, denying the thoughts that whispered his treatment of her as the real cause. Then one day she came into class, looking more refreshed and better rested. He allowed himself to relax inside.

She had fooled them all, apparently, and this time he could not deny that part of the blame lie at his doorstep.

He closed his eyes and the sight of her bleeding form assailed his memory. The smell of her blood still clung to him, he could still see the stains on his robes from where he had carried her against him through the Floo and into the Infirmary. He could still see the horrified look on Pomprey's face as he nearly dropped her on the bed. He couldn't stay, not seeing her like that, and so he turned and fled back the way he came.

Neville Longbottom would be serving a month of detentions with Hagrid and Filch, that was all the punishment he could think of upon seeing the boy again. He had been brave enough to stay behind and clean up his mess, and Severus had found the boy weeping silent tears as he mopped up the puddle blood with out the use of magic. Instead of angering him, Neville's behavior had elicited something akin to pity.

'Fuck,' he thought. 'I'm going soft.'

With a growl of anger, he hurled his wine glass into the fireplace, the shattering of the crystal a burst of noise in the silent room.

"Welcome back Miss Granger."

Hermione blinked rapidly against the bright light that flooded her vision and turned her head in the direction of Madame Pomprey's voice.

"How-" she cleared her throat, her voice rusty sounding. She rephrased and began again, puzzled as to why she was lying in the Infirmary. "What am I doing here?"

The Medi-witch tutted with a click of her tongue and gave the girl a tiny smile. "There was an accident in your Potions class, don't you remember?"

'Oh yes, that was it,' she thought with a grimace. She had been in class and then there had been a loud bang and then there was Severus floating over her.

"Oh. Neville," was all she said aloud.

"Yes, Mister Longbottom," replied Pomprey. "He has already been here this morning looking after you, last night too and the day before."

Hermione shot the woman a startled look. "How long have I been here?"

"Just on three days now." Madame Pomprey answered lightly as she made a great show of dusting a piece of lint from the top cover.

"Three days!" exclaimed the girl who was now struggling to sit up.

"Oh no you don't!" Pomprey said forcefully as she pushed her patient back down on the bed. "You are going to lie still and continue to rest! I won't have you getting ill again, Miss Granger! Your appearance was and still is quite shocking, very ill looking and now that we know you've been using a glamour, you won't be getting away with that little trick again! No you are to stay here until I see fit to release you, as ordered by the Headmaster, so there will be no argument from you!"

Hermione flopped back against her pillow, knowing it was useless to argue with the Medi-witch when she was in such a tizzy, and accepted her fate.

A few of hours later found Hermione bored to tears, well practically. Madame Pomprey forbade books.

"You need your rest, Miss Granger," she had said in a sing song voice. Hermione itched to hex her, yet her wand had apparently been confiscated too.

Harry and Ron had tried to visit, or so Madam Pomprey had informed her, but she had shooed them away telling them that she was resting and that they were to come back tomorrow.

The only visitor she had during the course of the day turned out to be Professor Dumbledore, who spent his time sitting quietly in a chair at her bedside with an expression that varied between twinkling and sorrowful. The small talk that he insisted in making had grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard, and she had been thankful for his eventual departure.

She refused to feel guilty about hastening his departure by feigning exhaustion.

Now, she lay on her bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling for the umpteenth time, wondering where Professor Snape was and what he was doing at that moment.

She harrumphed and turned to her side, thinking that it was partially his fault that she was in the state that she found herself in, so the least he could do was visit her. Even if it was on the sly.

'But noooooo!' she thought viciously. "Merlin forbid that he actually show any sort of compassion toward a student. A student that he had kissed passionately on a couple of occasions. A student who was injured in his class. His apprentice. His best student. Fellow order member.

"The bastard!" she muttered into her pillow.

A smooth, dark voice startled her into an upright position.

"Actually, Miss Granger, my parents were married."

A/N: Zambonigirl, hope your challenges are less challenging! I want to thank all of you for reviewing! It really brightens my day! Happy Holidays. Titania.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**A Right Bastard?**

"Actually Miss Granger, my parent's were married."

Hermione sat up with a gasp, startled by the words uttered so smoothly. How he had managed to creep in so stealthily amazed her!

"How do you know I was talking about you?" she asked after a moment spent gaping.

He answered her with a slight smile and feigning a hurt tone replied, "I have ears, Miss Granger. Do you think that I don't hear what is said of me in these hallowed halls? Although I must confess that I am shocked by your ephethet regarding my parentage, while here all this time I thought that you took up for me."

Hermione knew that the slight down turned expression was his rendition of a pout, and as Severus Snape never pouted, she wasn't fooled in the least.

"If you are going to pout, Professor, you need to make it convincing. I thought you were Slytherin?" she chided with a soft smile.

Severus thought that she looked amazing, with her wild, sleep mussed hair and soft smile. In the light of her bedside candle, her skin glowed. His heart beat a bit faster as her eyes regarded him from beneath lowered lashes.

"Miss Granger, Hermione." he finally said in a near whisper. Swallowing hard, he met her eyes and continued, "You gave your friends quite a scare, Professor Dumbledore too."

"I know, sir. I mean Severus," she replied looking contrite. She bit her lower lip as it began to tremble. Severus saw this and leaned forward in his chair, his hand brushing the top sheet of her bed and stroking.

"Hermione, do not trouble yourself. You have been worked too hard thus far this year, and some of the fault lies with me. I am your teacher, your master and I didn't notice the signs—no that isn't true." He sighed and allowed is hand to brush hers as it lay there, so near to his. "Hermione I—I , well damn it all you are my student and what happened by the lake and later on the trail—well it was—"

"Inappropriate," she interrupted. "I know that. Professor Dumbledore had a chat with me earlier this term as well, but I cannot help it Severus! I cannot just turn my feelings off and on like you do! I'm sorry but I cannot!"

His expression clouded over at her words, his eyes glittering in anger at her words, "Turn my feelings off and on, girl?" he snapped. "Do you honestly think that of me?" He regarded her hurt expression, her lips trembling full on now, tears wavering at the edges of her eyes. He sighed again, a deep exasperated sigh. "Perhaps I am too good at what I do," he said to himself.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I didn't mean—"

"Say no more and listen to me," he cut in. "Everything Dumbledore told you was correct. We mustn't, we cannot, not now. It's highly inappropriate and dangerous, Hermione, you know what I speak of. Never think, however that I am indifferent toward you. When things are better, when times are different, perhaps then sweet girl, but it isn't safe now. I cannot, you cannot until then. We have both worked too hard to get to where we are now, to ruin it by allowing our feelings to—"

"You have feelings for me then?" she interrupted. He grabbed her hand and stroking it with his thumb, brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm. Goosebumps raced up their bodies and Hermione drew a deep breath in a hiss. Their eyes met and she smiled at him, happiness surging through her.

Two hours later, Hermione found herself slipping into a deep, and for the first time in weeks, restful sleep with a soft smile on her lips.

Up in his turret office, Albus Dumbledore put his scrying mirror away in its velvet pouch with a satisfied smile.

In the dungeon, as he sipped from a glass of fire whiskey, the mark he had foolishly taken so long ago began to burn.

Finishing his drink in two gulps, Severus rose from his chair and made to change into his Death Eater robes, locking the memory of the evening away into the dark recesses of his mind as he dressed.

A few moments later, as he made his way through a tunnel deep within the bowels of the ancient keep, he promised himself that one day he would burn the robes he wore now. After he personally saw to the destruction of the madman who called him with burning flesh.

A/N: I know it's short, but it is a bridge chapter. Action, adventure, angst and lemons to come in future chapters! Thanks to all who read and review, I can't tell you all how much I appreciate it! Live long and prosper, Titania


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**The Darkest of Times**

The hope that had sprung eternal in Hermione's heart carried her through the following weeks and she bloomed.

Her studies became easier and Severus, as if by an unspoken promise, had lightened her load. Granted, he still pushed her in her duties as an apprentice, but he also made sure that Dobby had a tray of sandwiches waiting for her when she reported to the lab at her appointed times.

Regrettably, her habit of running him down continued over the ensuing weeks, but she had the grace to spread her mishaps amongst the other staff as well. Demand for his "Hermione Salve", as he called it now, had increased since her confinement to the infirmary. Even Neville Longbottom seemed to be improving in his work, the near death of his friend and fellow Gryffindor overcoming his fear of the dour Potions master.

Hermione, knowing that Severus loved her still, took in stride the acerbic remarks and deduction of points directed toward her housemates. There were evenings that she found only a sheet of parchment directing her to her tasks, and those were the evenings that Hermione dreaded and lived in fear of. Those were the evenings that he was with Voldemort. They were the evenings that he returned looking all the worse for wear. They were the evenings that he would send her away if he found her waiting for his return, which she always did.

The tension she had felt on the first night of the school year had proved to be real. Attacks on Muggle borns and their families had increased ten fold as had attacks on Muggles. Soon the mysterious deaths and other occurrences were being speculated upon by the Muggle press. In an effort to protect her parents, Hermione confessed the danger that her world was in and managed to persuade them to go into hiding in America.

Things were coming to a head and even the First Years were being trained in simple medicinal potions, defensive spells and other things that might be of use in saving their lives.

The night of March 31 was the turning point in the war. It was the last night that Severus was called to the side of Lord Voldemort. As he made his way, yet again through the tunnel that lead from the keep, neither Severus, Hermione or even Albus Dumbledore suspected that the Spy of Slytherin had been betrayed.

It was the first of many mistakes that the sociopathic sorcerer would make. For when Severus had somehow managed to make it back to Hogwarts alive, he was able to warn his mentor of the impending attack on the school, orchestrated by none other than Draco Malfoy, before he lost consciousness.

As Madame Pomprey tended his wounds and struggled to save his life, the battle raged on outside of the castle, the darkness pierced by the sparks from wands good and evil. As students and Death Eaters fell, Severus Snape dreamed the dreams of a comatose man. The Mediwitch satisfied that she had done all that she could, sat at his bedside, wand drawn and at the ready.

Hermione Granger sat on the field that once held the Quidditch pitch and wept silent tears as smoke eddied around her, carried by the light breeze that blew as lightening pierced the night sky above her. At her side lay the bodies of Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley who had each killed the other with the Killing Curse, cast at the same moment and both hitting their marks with the unerring testimony to the skill of those who cast it.

The Dark Lord had been defeated, finally in a blaze of green light and the Death Eaters that were left standing at his death were quickly dispatched by the Aurors that had finally been able to apparate into the field.

The sound of thunder rumbled, rolling through the sky and rain began to fall, drenching Hermione to the skin. In the distance, over the sound of thunder, she heard her name being called.

"Hermione!" the voices carried over the wind and rain. She ignored them, concentrating instead on the dead that surrounded her. Too young. They were all too young for this. She had never felt as helpless as she had at that moment.

In the fury of battle, her Gryffindor spirit had prevailed, she had charged readily into battle, hexing those who sought to destroy the world she loved. She fought for Severus, to avenge the torture they had put him through both as a boy and as a traitor to their perverted cause. She saw the bodies of her friends and classmates falling around her but pushed the images to the back of her adrenaline soaked mind and fought on. Harry had a prophesy to fulfill and she would damn well make sure that she did her part.

The voices were getting closer, they had seen her. Someone had shouted, "There she is!"

"Hermione! Hermione!" they screamed drawing closer and closer until they reached her. She finally looked up into the relieved but exhausted faces of Harry and Ron. Behind them stood the beleaguered forms of McGonagall and Hagrid. The gentle half-giant muttered something that she couldn't make out and she felt herself being lifted up into his arms.

A/N: Another short one I know, but the muse is stingy! Actually I am working on the last few chapters, which will be longer and yes zambonigirl, some will be lemony-but there is a bit more angst to endure. Not much, just a smidgen.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Remember When It Rained**

**Part One**

The rain fell to the thirsty Earth, washing away the blood shed in the final battle of the great war.

A dark caped figure walked slowly through the downpour, unaware of rain soaked robes, intent on making its way to its destination. All around the storm clouds swirled, lightening slashing through the darkness, lighting the path ahead.

There, against a stony wall, leaned another figure. It moved not, even as the rain slashed at it, lifted and driven by the rough winds. A hand reached toward the cloaked sentinel as feet slipped and grabbed for purchase on the slippery ground below.

"Severus!" came a plaintive moan. "Severus!" It's body transforming into a phoenix and taking flight in spite of the desire to stay to Earth. Fleeing upward into the storm clouds and the moon beyond.

"Hermione!" The phoenix heard as it winged away, seeing the black figure at the wall fall to the ground. "Hermione!"

His eyes snapped open, his vision filled with the stark whiteness of a cracking ceiling.

He was alive! Alive and at Hogwarts.

He closed his eyes again and made inventory of his body. His arms and legs felt intact, his head felt there except for the pounding headache that throbbed behind his eyes. He flexed his fingers and curled his toes. He moved his head gingerly from side to side. All seemed in place.

What had happened?

Then the memories returned. Crutatious. The beatings. The torture. How had he gotten back? Had he been in time?

"Quiet yourself, Severus," the Headmasters voice soothed his ears. "All is well."

Even though she sat on the sofa in front of the giant fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, she felt alone. Alone in spite of the chatter all around her, the excited chatter of teenagers contemplating a party.

'A party.' she thought to herself feeling rather flat. 'What's the point when her girl friend was dead along with so many others?' Sure Voldemort was dead and Harry Potter had beat the dark wizard, but she wasn't in the mood to party.

Severus had remained in his coma for the whole two days she had been kept in the Infirmary while Madam Pomprey treated her for shock. He had lain there unmoving, o his steady breathing the only sign of life from him. She had wanted to be by his side, to go to him and whisper in his ear that all would be well. But she was afraid of being discovered by Dumbledore or her friends and she wasn't sure whether or not there was any point to it anyway.

The nights were the worst. The quiet ward felt oppressive and she found herself staring across the room at the shape of her beloved as he lay in coma, oblivious to the victory that had been won. Won because of his sacrifice.

Madam Pomprey said he would be fine, would eventually recover from the injuries he had sustained during his final calling, but her words did little to comfort Hermione as she watched Severus lay there unmoving.

In those hours her love for him grew beyond anything she would have thought it capable of and solidified into something solid, steady and sure.

Her friends had visited, including Molly and Arthur Weasley who tried to smile through their tears. The had each smothered her with their loving hugs and cried with her at the devastating loss of Ginny.

"My darling girl!" Molly had exclaimed. "Ginny gone! You are the closest thing to a daughter I have left now, Hermione. Oh! Poor Ginny!"

Her anguished words echoed in her head now, her chest felt tight with tears and pain. Hoping to keep herself from breaking into tears, she glanced around the room, her eyes alighting on Ron. Who was trying to keep up a brave front, but his eyes were rimmed in dark circles and his face pale from grief. Poor Ron. Surely he didn't like the idea of a party so soon after his sisters' death?

"Hey Mione," the gentle voice of Harry Potter caressed her ears and she turned to him and gave him a small smile. "What are you doing there?"

"Thinking."

He looked at her with smiling eyes, "That's our Mione, always thinking. What are you thinking about?"

She sighed. She really didn't feel like talking now. Not about Ginny or the others. Severus was on her mind. So she answered as truthfully as she could,

"Nothing Harry. Just the ball. Are you bringing anyone?"

He blushed and chattered on about Padma's going to the ball with him, and she let him go on as her mind wandered back to the man lying in the Infirmary several stories below.

Eventually they all went up to bed, leaving her alone in front of the dying fire.

The candle by his bedside was the only illumination in the darkened Infirmary. The light softened the harsh lines of his face giving him a rested look in spite of the two week beard on his chin.

He'd have killed for a proper razor. Yet seeing that he wouldn't be getting his hands on one anytime soon, he instead contemplated the words of Albus Dumbledore earlier that day.

He was free. Voldemort was dead. They had won, but at a cost. Albus hadn't wanted to tell Severus of the losses suffered so soon after his awakening, but Severus had insisted as he struggled to sit up against his pillows.

Ginny Weasley was the death that had moved him the most. Molly and Arthur were two people he held in high esteem, and they were surely heartbroken.

Draco Malfoy, died dueling her, died fighting for Voldemort. Died because he had been born into and raised in a bigoted family. He hadn't stood a chance, even though Severus had tried in his own way to show him that he had. Another failure of his life.

Albus had told him that he was proud of his work, the sacrifices he had made. He had said that he was redeemed. Then he casually let mention that Hermione had been in the bed across from him for an entire two days while she was being treated for her injuries and shock.

Severus had pretended to be disinterested. Dumbledore had merely twinkled at him as he departed.

Now he was thinking about Hermione and the dream he had of her. The dream that had brought him back to wakefulness.

Now that the war was over and soon the term would be, what exactly did he want to do about Hermione?

The night before the ball was stormy. As had been the week leading up to it, although the storms were emotional. Classes had been called off as there were parents visiting or students leaving to visit parents.

Hermione had been studying in spite of the absence of classes. Anything to keep her mind busy, to keep her wondering about Severus.

They saw one another for the first time in the Great Hall at breakfast. He was just there, sitting in his usual spot as if nothing had happened. She had heard that he had awakened from his come and had attempted to visit only to be turned away by Madam Pomprey.

The following day was Ginny's funeral and she had stayed at The Burrow to help take care of the Weasleys. Molly wanted her around and so she stayed. She would have stayed longer, but Arthur and Molly insisted that she and Ron and Harry get back to school and attend the ball. For Ginny. She would have wanted that, they had said.

So she went back and there was Severus at the Head table. Their eyes met across the room and held. She didn't remember eating.

That was all she saw of him. He had sent her a note via Dobby calling off their lessons for the week, and asking her to consider putting her apprenticeship on hold for a year to give her time to recover.

She read the letter and wept.

As she was doing again tonight, alone in her room as the thunder boomed outside and the rain taped violently on her windows. He was rejecting her.

Crookshanks tried to cuddle his troubled mistress, but she gently set him aside and instead donned her robes.

She couldn't stay indoors any longer, the walls were closing in on her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to rage. Rage at the unfairness of it all, the loss of her classmates, the loss of her friend, the rejection she had received from the man she had come to love.

The rain would wash it all away. Her mother liked to say that it all came out in the wash after all, perhaps she was right. Either way she couldn't stand another moment in the keep. So she made her way out into the weather, not caring that she was walking into one of the worst storms to hit the area in over fifty years.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Remember When It Rained**

**Part Two**

His dungeon chambers, which normally were a solace to him, were of no comfort tonight. Instead the dark master of his rooms paced in front of his fireplace, brandy balloon in hand but long forgotten.

All he could think of was the face of Hermione Granger. Looking at him with hopeful eyes as he sat in his seat at the high table in The Great Hall, looking at him in the small chapel as the High Priest intoned a blessing over the body of the youngest Weasley. Watching him as they lowered her friend's body into the ground. Watching him as he swept past her and her friends in the corridor outside their Common Room, he saw the questions in her eyes, he saw the pain and the confusion.

He would close his eyes and imagine her in her bed across from him in the infirmary and wonder if she had even sat at his side. He'd like to think that she did and that she had held his hand as well.

His phoenix dream still bothered him.

Dumbledore had said he was free, but he didn't feel free. He felt as bound and tapped as he had ever felt while he worked for Dumbledore. The mark that had marred his skin had vanished as fast as the one who had branded him had, or so Pomprey had said when he looked at it, his expression puzzled.

Noticing the glass in his hand he brought it to his lips and drained its contents in one swallow. For the first time in a long while the room seemed to be closing in on him and he felt the primitive urge to flee into the darkness outside in spite of the storm that raged so loudly he could hear it in his rooms.

He flung the snifter into the fireplace and with a few swift strides he had grabbed his cloak and made his way out of his doors.

She had walked as far as she could she thought, as she reached a crumbled wall and leaned wearily against it. The wind blew a heave gale, buffeting her every step, the rain slashing at her, each drop that hit bare skin stinging as if rebuking her presence in such weather.

She didn't care, nor had she felt the sting after a few minutes of walking. It was her strength that had betrayed her finally, and the sight of the crumbling bricks had been a welcome sight.

She stood there, leaning against the wall trying to draw breath as the storm rolled around her, worsening with each passing minute. She let the rain sting her skin, the winds buffet her as tears coursed down her cheeks and her hands rip at her robes as all of the grief that had been building in her finally bubbled to the surface and overflowed.

She screamed into the storm, the thunder absorbing her keening as she pulled at her sodden hair with her hands, her body convulsing with the pain finally purged from her soul.

'They were all so stupid,' she thought savagely. "Stupid and blind!" she yelled at the bolts of lighting as they arced across the sky.

Images of her played in her head. Ginny laughing with her over the antics of Neville one night in the Common Room. Her hugs of encouragement whenever she had felt down. Her smiling wistfully at Harry, her elbowing Ron at something tacky he had said. Her face screwed up in concentration as she did her homework. The determined look on her face as she battled Draco Malfoy, and finally the blank look and hollow eyes of her face in death.

She fell to her knees, hands tearing at her hair again as she keened for her loss.

Then Severus' face appeared behind her closed eyes. His smirking face, his studious face and finally his frightened face. The face he had shown to her on the first night of the new term, a night that was so long passed. The night that he had kissed her and pulled her against him as if she were a life preserver and he the only survivor if a shipwreck. The face he had shown her as he ordered her away from him.

"Oh Severus!" she gasped longing for his arms around her even as she wrapped hers around herself and crumbled further into the wet earth.

He was wet though and cold. But it was the screaming that kept him walking.

He had only walked a bit when he decided that the storm was too intense for him to continue, but the sudden, unmistakable sound of human screaming had stopped him as he turned back toward the keep.

With a curse he turned back toward the sound and made his way forward, vowing to take away the remainder of house points from the house of whichever student was so foolish enough to be out in such a deluge.

Making his way across the field, cursing under his breath and occasionally stumbling over a jutting stone, he trod on and the screaming increased in its intensity. Its sudden ceasing chilled his heart to its core and he picked up his pace, nearly running against the blowing winds until he reached a crumbling wall and spied a dark form huddled against it crying his name.

"Hermione!"

A/N Yes, I know it's evil of me to end it here but I promise that the next chapter will be chock full of lemony goodness. It will also be the second to last. Happy Holidays and thank you all so much for reading my story and especially for reviewing! Titania


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Twenty**

**Never Let Go**

"Hermione!"

She looked up at him, her face ravaged by tears and rain, his name falling from her lips in startled amazement. He was instantly at her side scooping her to him, his hands stroking her hair as she keened his name over and over.

They stayed there, huddling together and eventually the rain slowed into a slow drizzle as her sobs abated into hiccups.

"Hermione," he finally murmured as he lifted her face to his gaze and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss filled with the unspoken words of love.

Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as she pressed herself closer to him and responded, their tongues dueling. His hands roamed her back, cupping her arse and pressing her closer to his hardness. She moaned into his mouth and grasping a handful of hair, pulled him closer still.

When they finally broke their kiss a breathless Severus stood and offered his hand to her and with out a word they walked slowly into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. She felt none of her customary fear of the place with him.

The pair walked hand in hand down a trail which led to a small clearing that was sheltered by a small copse of trees.

"Silly girl," he whispered as he pulled her close once more. "Running out into a storm without a proper cloak! Whatever were you thinking?"

She burrowed her face into his chest, not caring that at that moment they both stood in the gentle caress of raindrops, nor caring that they were both soaked through to their skin. All she knew was that he was here with her and that because of this she could survive. She sighed and answered,

"I just wanted to get out of there, I felt so closed in."

They stood there for a time, their hands stroking each other's back. Neither needed to speak, content with nothing but the sound of the rain on green leaves and the steady thrum of each others heartbeat.

"Kiss me Severus," she whispered suddenly. "I don't care if it's wrong I just need you to kiss me."

With a growl he obliged, taking her lips with a fierceness that set fire to her blood. This was what she had been wanting all these months, she thought as his tongue swept over hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hands pulled her against him, his arousal pressing against her belly, his hands stoking the fire within her. She wiggled against him causing him to end the kiss with a hissing intake of breath. They were both panting from the intensity of the moment, their eyes lit with a fiery determination that the night wouldn't end right there.

They had gone on with the charade for far too long.

"Make love to me Severus," she said feeling suddenly brazen.

"No," he barked.

She scowled at his tone and refusal, but before she had time to burst into frustrated tears he pulled her to him again and whispered,

"No, Hermione I will not make love to you. I will make you mine."

With that he kissed her again and stepped back.

With a flick of his fingers, the clasp to her robes was undone and the rain sodden material dropped from her shoulders and fell in a puddle at her feet. He gasped at the sight of her in her camisole, wet though and leaving nothing to the imagination. The material clung to her like a second skin, her dusky nipples hard from arousal and the chill were pressing against the silk, inviting him to taste, to touch. So he did and she cried out in startled pleasure at the feel of his hot mouth on her.

He held her up with his hands pressed against her back as his mouth and hands tasted and stroked, until he could stand no more. He had to feel her skin in his mouth. His hands ripped the fragile material away from her as his mouth descended once more.

Her hands weren't idle as worked his spell on her, she ran them through his hair, pressing him closer to her breasts encouraging him to take as much as he desired. Her head fell back as she moaned his name into the night.

"Severus!" she whispered shakily. "Severus!"

He lowered her to the ground, his hands stroking her sides, his lips kissing hers. She sighed as the kiss ended and she opened her eyes to see him over her, his lips swollen his eyes hooded.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

He smiled at her and then ripped her silken pants away in a swift movement. His eyes drank her in with one lingering glance as she lay there pale against the emerald grass. The rain caressed her gently, drops sliding over her flesh. He bent down and licked some from her belly and said, "I have no intention of stopping Hermione."

He stood up, his eyes never leaving her and unbuttoned his cloak. He let it fall to the ground while he began to unbutton the many buttons of his shirt. After shrugging it from his form, he undid his trousers and kicked them off.

Hermione gazed wide eyed at his nakedness, her eyes raking his form and widening at his erection. A small frison of fear shimmied up her spine at the sight of it, for to her it looked intimidating. Her eyes met his which shone with something that she couldn't name, but none the less caused her clit to throb even harder than it had before. Feeling brave and flushed with desire she opened her arms in invitation and with a growl he swooped down on her and took her lips with his.

The falling rain did nothing to cool their ardor, but rather caused it to burn hotter with every stroke of their tongues on the drops that formed on their skin. His hand caressed her body, her hands his as they explored each other. Lips and hands flew with furious abandon over heated flesh as they tasted and nibbled, each discovering places on the other that pleased.

Finally, neither could stand no more. The primal call for completion was all that they heard.

He inhaled her pained gasp as he filled her in a single thrust.

"Hermione!" he gasped. She was so hot and tight and wet around him that he knew that he wouldn't last but a short time. She looked up at him the pain in her eyes quickly fading into desire as her body adjusted to his and the fire burned again. She lifted her hips against his sending his heart higher and causing him to thrust back.

She closed her eyes, her back arching hips thrusting to meet his as he stroked in and out of her in a steady rhythm. She thought she was going to die from the pleasure of it all, the smoothness of him inside of her, the stroking of his thumb on her clit. She could hardly draw breath as she felt herself being hurdled higher and higher as if she were flying. Suddenly she heard herself screaming his name as she exploded around him, her body burning hot in spite of the cooling rain that fell upon them.

With a few more strokes, she felt his muscles tense as he roared aloud, his body shuddering over hers as his essence filled her.

A/N: Hope this pleases! Thanks to all who have reviewed! I am amazed by the numbers, and promise to respond to all asap. Right now is a hectic time of year for me at my job, but I will respond I swear. In the meantime—HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Afterglow and Afterwards**

In a small copse of trees, deep within the Forbidden Forest, the rain soaked bodies of the new lovers lay entwined as each tried to regain their breath. All around them the sounds of the creatures that occupied the forest began to sound again, as the rains stopped and the creatures emerged from their shelters. Neither one of them noticed, rapped up as they were in their own thoughts.

'Finally,' she thought, snuggling tighter against him. She felt safe in his strong, pale arms, his body against hers. She brought her hand to the arm that lay across her waist and stroked the skin. She felt his deep sigh, and smiled.

His eyes were closed, his face buried in her hair. Even wet, he thought, it smelled like carnations. Delicate and strong at the same time, it was a flower that suited her. His Hermione, he thought, with a sigh as her hand stroked his once marked arm, his alone, and consequences be damned.

"Hermione," he said aloud. "We should be getting back; it will soon be dawn."

She turned in his arms and kissed his lips sweetly. "I don't want to go back, I'd rather stay here."

He returned the kiss, only with more passion as his hands roamed her bare back and fire ignited in his veins. It would be so easy to run away with her, he thought. Just get up, transfigure her torn garments and take her far away.

"I know, but you have your NEWTS to finish and the end of term to see through, Hermione. I have a duty to Albus to complete, as well," he finally replied. She sighed and pressed herself against him wanting nothing more than to have him inside of her again, and in a sudden fit of boldness she told him as much.

He reluctantly untangled himself from her and stood, ignoring the lust filled stare she was giving him as her eyes raked his nude form, lingering on his erection, without the slightest bit of shyness.

"But Severus," she whispered in a husky tone. "I would be remiss in allowing you to return to the school in that condition. It must be uncomfortable."

He looked down at her and smirked, "How kind of you, dearest, to be concerned." He extended his hand to help her up, which she reluctantly took. Bending down to retrieve her sodden robes, she grimaced at their condition. Smiling at his arched brow, she extended the robe toward him. Two flicks later it was dry and clean, and she shrugged herself into it with an air of disappointment.

They walked out of the forest and into the gentle pink light of the rising Sun, side by side, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"Severus?" she asked eventually. "What happens now?"

His hand shot out, grabbing her by the elbow to steady her as she tripped over a stone. He drew a breath and stopped.

"You are mine now, Hermione," he answered in a velvet tone. "As to what happens now, that is a matter best left to discussion this evening."

She nodded her head and turned back toward the school. "I suppose that you and I are going to be in a great deal of trouble," she sighed. "It's funny but I'm more concerned about you getting sacked than I am about being expelled."

"I will handle Albus," he said, as he placed his hand on her shoulders. "You will certainly finish the term, of that you can be sure. As for me, Hermione, do not worry. I will be able to take care of myself, and you as well."

She looked back at him with a startled expression and he laughed. "What?" he asked. "I'm not a pauper, Hermione, and to be frank I have never really liked teaching. But this is a subject best left for tonight."

He pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. "Now, back to the school with us, and do not worry yourself. I promise that it will all work out."

"Tea, Severus?" Albus Dumbledore asked mildly from behind his half moon spectacles.

"Yes, thank you, Headmaster," was Severus'stiff reply.

Albus poured the steaming Darjeeling into a china cup decorated in red roses and gold swords, while observing his Potions master in the early morning light that filtered into the tower windows. "Dear boy,' he thought. 'He looks just like a student in trouble.' Albus repressed a sigh and felt all of his one hundred and fifty years of age. Severus Snape was the son that Albus often wished he had been blessed with, and now that boy needed him, needed him even more than he had on the night he had pledged himself to The Cause.

"Headmaster," Severus began, shattering the silence. "I know that you-Albus I am here to tender my resignation."

Albus took a sip of his tea and eyed the man over the rim of the cup. "I will not mince words with you Severus," he said. "You and Miss Granger are both aware of the standards of conduct, here at this school."

Severus met the older man's eyes and saw no anger or disappointment in them. He was surprised but kept his features blank.

"I took advantage of a student, sir," he said softly. "And I do not regret it in the least."

"I know, my dear boy, I know.

Albus gave a short bark of a laugh at the startled expression on Severus' face and continued, "Miss Granger is what I would have wished for you if I were your father, Severus. What's more I think that she is perfect for you, and you for her."

"Sir, I-"

"Severus, my dear boy," he interrupted. "I am happy for you. Please do not think that I am disappointed in you or her, although I would wish that you both had waited until the end of term. No, I am happy that you have found love. I am proud of how you have conducted yourself over these many years, and so very honored to call you my friend. As I said in the Infirmary, you have redeemed yourself, son."

Severus was for once in his life rendered speechless. He rose from his chair and paced the room, as was his habit when discomfited. Albus merely looked upon him with patient affection and allowed a few minutes to pass before continuing.

"I expect you to finish out the term, of course. It would not do to leave your classes right before NEWTS. As to the rest, well, I expect you to keep in touch with me and I also expect you to keep up Miss Granger's apprenticeship with you, for you needn't be here to continue that."

Severus stopped his pacing and stood at full height in front of his friend. "And Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Severus," he said in resignation. "She is of age and besides I care for her too dearly to expel her. She will finish her education here with the rest of her class."

The dark wizard suppressed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Albus," he said quietly.

"I don't need to tell you that I expect decorum until the end of term, do I, Severus?"

"No, sir. I will speak with Hermione about this tonight."

Albus gave him a smile and said, "Don't fret, Severus and tell Miss Granger the same. There isn't but a month till the end, and then you may have a new beginning."

A/N Sorry for the wait. My computer crashed and I had a major case of writers block. Of course this is what happens when your muse likes Cosmpolitans too much! Please leave a review, I hate to beg, but I really love getting them. Live long and prosper, Titania


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Twenty Two**

**It Is You…I Have Loved All Along**

Severus Snape stood in his customary dark corner, contemplating the festive ribbons and flower balls that hovered below the clear star light that shone upon the enchanted ceiling.

This was a scene, he thought, that he would be sneering at on any other occasion, but tonight he was too nervous to consider it. His stomach wouldn't have borne it, roiling as it was.

The Great Hall was alive with the chattering of new graduates and the music of the band hired to play for the party that was now, fully underway. It was the last party that he would attend as a Hogwarts professor, for his retirement had been announced that day at the ceremony. The announcement was met with a surprising amount of astonishment by some, and a not so surprising amount of joy, though muted for decorum's sake, by others

He looked away from a hovering flower ball of scarlet and gold roses, his eyes seeking and finding her in the sea of brightly colored robes and gowns. She wasn't hard to miss in his eyes, and never more so than this evening.

She was respledent, he thought, as he watched her take a turn around the floor in the arms of a smiling Albus Dumbledore. In the crème colored gown he had sent her last evening, along with a jeweler's box containing a necklace, and earrings of gold and grass green emeralds. The gown was, as he thought it would be, perfect on her lovely figure. The plunging, squared neckline accented the soft curve of her shoulders, the silk casting a soft sheen to her skin. The bodice clung tightly to her tiny waist before cascading out into an Elizabethan flair. The simple elegance of the gown was only heightened by the upswept way she wore her hair, and the emeralds that shone at her throat and ears.

As if Albus had sensed the wizard's eyes following them, he made a point of sweeping Hermione around the floor and past him, and he caught her breathless giggle as they flew by. Severus followed them with his eyes and wondered, as he had for the last month, how he had been so fortunate as to have gained the love of that witch.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head against the cool stone wall and sighed.

She had been so nervous, he remembered, on the evening of their last meeting alone. It was the night after their first night spent together in the Forbidden Forest, the night that he told her that he had tendered his resignation.

"Do not worry, ma petite," he had told her. "Headmaster has assured me that you shall not be expelled."

She looked at him as she stood by the fireplace, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"When do you go?" she asked her voice choking. "What will you do? Oh Severus I am so sorry!"

He crossed the room in three strides, and standing toe to toe with her, he wiped the tears that had started to fall away with the tips of his fingers. "Shhh," he whispered, as he took her into his arms. "Hermione, don't fret. As I said this morning, I am hardly a pauper, and as to when I must go, Albus has asked that I stay to finish the term."

"Oh!" she gasped, burying her face against his woolen jacket.

"But he has asked that we not be alone together any more, Hermione. At least not until you have graduated, and in this we must obey him."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and wet from her weeping and nodded. "I understand," she said softly. "But Severus June is so far off!"

He smiled down at her, and brushed a last kiss against her forehead before releasing her.

"I know ma petite, but the days will pass."

And so they did.

For the sake of the couple, as well as for the sake of decorum, Albus had removed Hermione from Potions class. Hermione had told her friends upon their angry inquiry that the Headmaster had said that she was so far ahead in the class due to her diligent studies and her apprenticeship, that she could forgo the class and sit her NEWTS when the time came.

Albus Dumbledore developed an interest in the Potions masters curriculum as regarded apprentice studies, which led him to spend his time in the dungeons with the pair while she was present. Being the gentleman that he was, he never failed to escort her back to the entrance to the common room, giving the lateness of the hour as a standing excuse.

'All in all,' Severus thought, as he opened his eyes and looked for her again. 'It has been a miserable month.' A month of seeing her, and not being able to touch her. A month of trying to court her without it looking like he was courting her. A month of her, in his labs the smell of carnations, her scent, threatening to overpower his senses and make him throw her over his shoulder and flee the castle. A month of Albus' damn twinkling.

An entire month leading up to this afternoon, when he managed to contain the proud smile that threatened to breakout on his face, as she crossed the dais to accept her parchment. She chit had smiled at him, and winked, as a flush spread across her face. He saw the desire and joy in her eyes for the brief moment they had looked into his. He let his scowl deepen. It wouldn't do to have anyone faint and ruin the ceremony if he should smile, or even better, pull her into his arms and kiss her.

That was for later.

"Don't you think that it's time, my boy?"

The voice of Albus Dumbledore startled him from his reverie, causing him to jump slightly.

"You're lucky that I knew you were there," Severus said in a whisper. "Otherwise, I might have mistaken you for a student and hexed you."

Albus' laugh eddied softly over him in the shadows. "She is lovely this evening Severus, and at last she is no longer a student here." Severus felt the man's touch on his arm. "Go to her, my son. As I said, don't you think it's time?"

Severus watched her as she talked to Longbottom, who was still simpering over her all these months after the accident that had nearly killed her. His stomach lurched as the nervousness he had nearly tamped down rose again. What if she didn't like it? What would she say? Was he being too damn soppy? Why had he listened to Albus in the first place?

"Go on Severus," the old wizard said. "She won't bite. Well not yet anyway, but who knows eh?"

He closed his eyes as his former Headmaster walked off chuckling, and vowed to never think on that remark again. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the shadows and moved in the direction of the woman that he loved more than anything in the world.

Their eyes met from across the room, and she stood still as if frozen, a cup halfway to her lips, as Longbottom continued his incessant prattle without noticing that she was no longer paying attention. From the corner of his eye he caught Potter and Weasley sliding up beside her as they shot glaring looks his way.

Then, he was before her, the scent of her perfume engulfing him, threatening to drive all sensible thought from his mind.

"Miss Granger," he rumbled, as he begged the Gods to not let him throw up. "Might I have a word with you?"

She smiled a small, polite smile at him as her heart began to pound in her chest.

"Of course, Sir," was her soft answer.

Turning, she put her cup down on the table behind her, willing her hands not to shake. She turned back to him and smiled again, as he extended his arm.

"Shall we walk?" he asked, and they stepped away from the astonished trio, two of whom swiftly made to follow.

"In private!" he growled at the Boy Who Lived and his redheaded friend.

"Really you two!" Hermione chided. Turning back to the dark man beside her she continued, "Professor? Lead the way."

No one, save Albus and her astonished friends noticed the pair, one dark and one fair, making their way from the room, so busy as they were enjoying their last night of childhood.

"Where are we going?" Hermione Granger asked, as she walked by his side though the warm June night. Above them the sky was clear, the stars twinkling against the velvet blackness of the sky. The Moon was a perfectly round disk against that backdrop, its opal light shining down upon them softly.

"You shall see, ma petite," was the enigmatic answer Severus provided to her question. She looked up at his face, and smiled at the seriousness of his expression.

"You look as if you are about to take house points," she teased softly. She thought that she saw him grimace, but the expression was so fleeting, she dismissed the thought.

Sensing that silence was called for, she said nothing further, and allowed herself to be guided by her lover's steps.

They walked in silence for a few moments more, before they came upon a small clearing that lead into a maze made of tall hedges. She looked up at him, her face reflecting the myriad of questions flitting about her mind, as he stopped before the entrance.

"Come," was all he said to her, as he stepped away from her side, and held out his hand. She smiled at him, as she took it, shivering at the feel of her hand brushing against the roughness of his fingers and palm. His hand was cold, and out of instinct, she squeezed it, as he gently pulled her into the maze.

Her heart was pounding madly in her chest, as she followed him through the shadows cast by the high shrubbery. His silence was beginning to puzzle her, but she followed on, and asked no questions.

Instead, she allowed her eyes to drink in the dark man before her. That he loved her was a constant source of joy, and puzzlement. This brooding, tall wizard, who held her hand in his own, loved her, and had made love to her, little more than a month ago. It was a night that she replayed over, and over again in her dreams. Dreaming of him, she thought, was all that she could do, during this last month of term.

How embarrassed she had been, at Albus Dumbledore's nightly presence in the lab, as he feigned interest in the apprenticeship of his best student. She struggled not to laugh outright, at his blatant lack of subtleness in assigning himself the role of the pair's chaperone.

Truth be told, she had hoped that the Headmaster would have seen fit to ignore the rules, as he had so often done in the past, and let Severus stay on as a Professor. Yet, there were some rules that, once broken, could not be ignored. Making love to one's student was one such rule.

Suddenly, the maze ended at a small clearing, and Hermione gasped at the sight before her. In the center of the clearing stood a small table, draped with a pale damask. Upon the surface, sat two crystal goblets, and in a silver urn, a bottle of what appeared to be champagne.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, as she took in the simple elegance of the scene.

He turned to her and grasped her other hand. Bringing it to his lips, he pressed a gentle kiss upon it, and softly said, "Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes!" she cried. "It's beautiful, Severus. I don't know what to say!"

He chucked, relieved at her reaction, and said, "That is a first, I believe, my dear."

Their eyes met, and before either of them realized, they were kissing each other with the hungry abandon, of lovers long separated.

His heart raced, as he felt her small body pressing against his, her hands tangling in his hair, as she tried to pull him closer. Wanting to taste her further, he nipped at her lower lip, and she moaned, opening her mouth to give his tongue access. Their mouths tasted each others, tongues swirling and dipping. She sighed, and he inhaled the sigh, as if to draw her essence further into him.

She pressed herself further against him, wriggling against the hardness pressing into her belly. Fire burned hotter in his veins, the heat running through him, and centering in his loins. He bucked against her, as his hands ran down her back and to her skirt, where they sought and found her behind, underneath the material of her skirt. He pressed her against him, as his tongue swept her mouth once more, before he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss.

"We had best stop now, Hermione," he said breathlessly. "Otherwise, you shall have your skirts tossed at this very site."

"Toss away, my dark man, I am all yours," she answered boldly, even as she blushed.

He smiled at her, as his eyes drank in the sight of her in the moonlight. "No, ma petite, for I have other intentions for this spot. Come and sit, Hermione. I wish to celebrate with you in private, for the rest of the evening."

She followed him to the table, and sat in the offered chair, wondering just what he had planned for them tonight. She hoped that it included having, as he had so quaintly put it, her skirts tossed, if not here, then in his bed. Or hers. It mattered not to her, so long as it happened.

"You must be thirsty," he said, in his most velvety tone. "Champagne?"

She nodded, as he began pouring out a glass for each of them. Her fingers toyed with the stem of the goblet, as he finished filling his. Standing over her, he raised his glass, and said,

"Hermione, I," he paused and gulped, his Adams apple bobbing in this throat as his nerves failed him. Thinking, this wouldn't do, he drew a breath and began again. "Hermione, I congratulate you. You have finished your seven years here and have surpassed all of your class mates."

He watched, as she took a sip of her drink, her face paling at his words. They had sounded too formal, he thought, even to him. He quickly sipped from his glass, downing its contents in one gulp, and said, "I can't do this, Hermione, it isn't right."

Tears welled up in her eyes, as she watched him turn from her, his head bowed.

"Wh-what isn't right, Severus?" she whispered, rising from her chair, her heart clenching in fear. "I don't understand."

He turned back to her and, seeing the sadness of her expression, he grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. He knew what she was thinking. She thought that he was going to send her away.

"No, Hermione, it's not what you are thinking," he chided softly. "I am not leaving you, nor will I ever allow you to leave me, my love."

"Then what is wrong? Please tell me," was her whispered plea.

He drew a breath and continued, "Do you feel my heart, how it is pounding? This is what you do to me. It is what you have done to me, ever since you started running into me all of your sixth year. It is what you have done to me all of this year. Even as I yelled at you, scolded you and berated you, I was falling in love with you. I just didn't realize it at the time."

"Oh, Sev-"

"Let me finish, Hermione, before I lose my nerve," he said, cutting her off in a harsher tone then he had meant to use. He drew breath again as she winced. "I am a taciturn man, my dear, and while I may snap at you, or go through the day in silence, never forget that I love you. Never forget that I made you mine, that night in the forest. Never doubt my love for you, my dear Hermione, my little lioness."

With his words, she threw herself into his arms, and kissed his lips, with a ferocity that she had not known she was capable of.

A/N: Muwahahahaha! One more chapter, full of lemons and other delights. Please review, they really make my day!

Live long and prosper, Titania


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Remember When It Rained**

**Chapter Twenty Three**

**Never Let Go-Reprise**

'Who would have ever thought,' he mused to himself. 'That my life would have ever taken this turn?'

It was a glorious morning at Hogwarts. Spring in Scotland was a testament to the bountiful love of Mother Nature for this bit of her creation.

He had made his way through the wild flowers that always bloomed en masse, their colors weaving a bright tapestry against the land. His figure, dressed in his traditional black, was a severe counterpoint to the lightness of it all. It was his countenance, however, that was changed. The once scowling expression, replaced by something akin to nervousness. Not that he would have ever admitted any of this to anyone but his Hermione.

"_I can't understand it_

_The search for an answer is met with a darker day._

_And we've been handed these moments forever,_

_But I'm reassured there's another way..."._

All around him, white ribbons fluttered on the breeze that gently blew through the tall box hedges, cooling the air around them. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. It was nearly time, he thought, his stomach roiling just as it had last June, as he watched her dance her dance with Albus.

Only this time, the center of the maze was to be the spot where he pledged his eternal love and devotion to the young witch that had managed to wrap him around her little finger. The young woman, who had sought his soul through the layers of darkness that he had clothed himself in. The woman who was the reward for the many years of hell and torture he had endured, in the effort to redeem himself.

It was almost overwhelming.

The only thing that kept him upright, was the knowledge that her closest friends were looking at him, waiting for him to fumble. He allowed his eyes to drift in their direction and noted, with a bit of smug glee, that their expressions were curiously blank.

Potter and Weasley had not been happy to hear that their best girl was in love with Severus Snape. He was, after all, the Greasy Git of Hogwarts dungeons. It was inconceivable to them that he was capable of love, let alone capable of loving someone such as Hermione.

He smirked at them, and felt a bit of pleasure at the way their eyes sought another subject of study.

They were here for her, he thought, allowing himself to feel a tad of grudging admiration. That they loved her was plainly clear. It was for her sake that the three tried to behave with some sort of civility.

Music swelled, carried on the breeze. The scent of carnations drifted into the center of the maze, followed by her. Resplendent in ivory silk, she met his eyes. Her smile was dazzling in it's happiness.

He closed his eyes and opened them again. No, he thought, this was no dream.

"_You don't have to close your eyes,_

_There is room for love again._

_Ease the pain to realize, all that love can be._

_Forced apart by time and sand,_

_Take a step, and take my hand._

_And don't let it go!_

_Never let go!"_

Her hand was, suddenly in his. He looked down on her, his gaze taking in the sight of his Hermione. She was dressed in silk, her gown styled in the same manner of the gown she wore to the graduation ball. At her neck, the emeralds he had sent her for that occasion, shone in the light of the morning Sun.

Her hair was gathered atop her head in a crown of curls, held in place by a tiara of roses and baby fern. To him, she looked like a queen.

Her hand shook in his and their eyes met. Each drew a breath, and turned to face Albus Dumbledore.

"_Broken, once connected,_

_We were so strong, and so blessed in a simple way._

_So don't let me go it alone……"_

Their soft spoken vows caressed the ears of all who had gathered in the center of the maze. As the ribbons, symbolizing their binding were wrapped around their hands, the air crackled with magic. The glowing white ball of light that surrounded the pair stunned no one but Harry and Ron, who gazed slack-mouthed at the power of the joining.

As their lips met, sealing the union forged by their love and the pledge of their hearts, each felt lighter than air.

For a moment, each of them felt as if they were flying.

"_Turn your head up to the sky_

_Nothing down below but me_

_Face the truth to realize, all that we could be_

_Torn apart by rage and fear_

_Hold on to what brought you here!_

_Don't let it go! Never let go!"_

A/N: Well this is the end. The lemons are for you to imagine. Thank you to all who have read an reviewed this story. I cannot tell you all how much the thought that people actually read and like my work means to me. I am currently working on finishing, "On Turning Thirty…" as I am determined to finish all of the storied I have started. They don't call them plot bunnies for nothing, for they do multiply..heh heh. I am also in the research and outline phase of a SS/OFC fic, which will be set in Snape, England. It will be submitted in Occlumency as soon as I have chapter one done and Beta'ed.

As a final note, I'd like to dedicate this story to Moisie and Severus Snape (foolishwandwaving), whom many of us know from the Lord and Lady Snape Yahoo group. Their loss will be keenly felt for many years to come. God speed to both of them.

Live long and prosper,

Titania


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